


Monodrama

by whenineternal



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, a side of complicated-Jongdae/Yixing, past-Lu Han/Yixing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenineternal/pseuds/whenineternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yixing spends his days pretending that he doesn't live in the past, pretending that he is a functioning human being and not an empty shell of one. All it takes is one date on a cold December night to shift him out of balance and tear down the carefully constructed walls around him, but whether that's for good or bad, Yixing can't say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monodrama

 

_When the rain is blowin’ in your face_

_And the whole world is on your case_

_I could offer you a warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love_

 

 

 

 

The sky outside the windows are black as anything, the smog-covered city leaving no room for stars to blink through, and the moon is only visible from the other side of the building. The room inside is just as dark; the only light being the little red dot on the smoke detector that glows ominously over the door. Noise filters in from the outside and the hallways on the other side of the door, but inside it is silent, the creaking of an office chair having quieted as the occupant has gone still. Slowly the noises from outside disappears as the campus is cleared of student and staff alike.

Yixing takes another sip from the cup in his hands, warming the bottom of his face in the steam rising from the hot tea inside. He likes the quiet, he likes the emptiness of the dark and see no reason to move. His mother is looking after Li Yin now that the school year has begun again, so he really has no reason to move either. He takes another sip and tips his head back, his eyes rising lazily to the ceiling. The chair creaks again as he lifts his feet onto the desk and leans backwards as much as the chairs back will allow. A few droplets of hot tea sloshes over the ceramic rim of his cup and down over his fingers, but his apathetic mood has him barely reacting except for to wipe his hand on his trousers. He hums the beginning phrase of a composition, one he heard in his class earlier in the day, and his head lolls to the side so he can look out at the sky beyond the windowpane. A shiver goes through him when the heater shuts off and all the warm air in the room seems to be instantly sucked out. He’s not supposed to be here so late, the janitors will lock the building up in little more than an hour, but he doesn’t want to go home either. Still, he rights the chair and picks up his shoulder bag and locks the dark brown door behind him when he leaves, eyes brushing over his name written in golden letters on the water glass window. _Dr. Zhang Yixing._

 

He wanders the hallways slowly, past the offices on the third floor and the lecture rooms on the second floor and the individual practice rooms on the first floor. His cup of tea is still warm, and he holds it in both hands as he lets the soft tinkling of a piano wash over him. The door to a practice room at the very end of the hall is slightly cracked and the familiar voice of one of his students drifts out of it, floating on the waves of the pianos dulcet tones. The words settle inside him, warms him more in an instant than the tea has managed in the many minutes since he brewed it and he takes a moment to pretend they are for him before he steps up to the door and gently push it open. The young man inside stops singing when he sees him, but his fingers continue to move over the black and white keys and fills the room with soothing sound. Yixing closes the door behind him and rests against it, quietly taking in the straight posture of the man and the concentrated look on his face as he traces out the notes with his eyes and lets them transfer to his fingers, and sighs at the little quirk of the others lips. He should go, but so should the other, and he already closed the door so Yixing knows he wouldn’t get very far.

“What are you doing here so late Zhongdai?” he asks instead, his voice a mere breath above the music. Jongdae doesn’t say anything for a long while, he plays through the sheet music another time before he stops and turns around on the bench, “you didn’t leave,” he says.

“I thought something might be wrong,” he continues and Yixing sighs again. He shivers because it is even colder down here and the winter frost seems to be seeping through the walls of the building, “nothing’s wrong” he whispers. The silence echoes with the memory of Jongdae’s song and Yixing deeply wishes he would play it again, so he asks him to, and asks him if this is the song he means to play at the winter recital in just a couple weeks. “Yes” Jongdae says, calls him Professor and asks him what he thinks. Yixing waits until Jongdae has played it again to tell him it’s beautiful.

“It’s a Bob Dyl … “, “I know”. The conversation is meaningless, so it ends there. Jongdae plays something else, something new, something that isn’t school and compositional theory and student and teacher. The melody stretches on and Yixing studies the floor until his eyes close and he studies the music, the rise and flow of the tones, the shift in tempo, in power and the descent into tinkling softness. Jongdae continues playing after, the melody melding into something improvised and so Yixing is the one to make the first move. He gently pushes away from the door and walks over, he hesitates when he reaches the piano, but sits down on the bench beside Jongdae when the other man gives him a look over his shoulder. For another moment Yixing watches Jongdae’s hands move on the piano and then he lets his left hand rest on the lower register. As Jongdae’s improvised melody becomes somewhat steady and repetitive, morphing into something not quite like improvisation anymore, Yixing accompanies him on the deeper tones, fitting his own darkness to Jongdae’s brilliance and closes his eyes again to let the music seep into his veins, set in his bones.

Jongdae makes the second move, always so much bolder than Yixing, and raises his left hand from the keys to cup Yixing’s jaw. Yixing’s eyes are still closed and he doesn’t dare open them when Jongdae leans in and places a kiss on his cheekbone and then on his lips. They are still playing, repeating the same patterns over and over as they kiss, the glide of their lips as soft as their fingers. When Jongdae stops, so does Yixing and the only sound left is the wet slide of their tongues meeting and the shuffling of feet and clothes as Jongdae pulls them both up and away from the piano. For a moment Yixing opens his eyes and looks at Jongdae up close, his long eyelashes fanning over his high cheekbones and his hair curling gently into his temples. He’s beautiful and young and despite all the reasons he shouldn’t, he makes Yixing feel good.

It’s like an addiction, how Jongdae makes him feel. How he makes him feel so alive in the short moments they spend together, rushing towards that exquisite release and the weight of so many things falling off his shoulders. It is no less rushed when they come together this time, as Yixing pulls the younger man against him and presses his own back to the wall as the kiss turns messy. Jongdae always follows his lead so he always does it like this and gives control of the situation to him. He does it so the guilt won’t nag at him, when he only gives he can forget the fact that Jongdae is his student. Jongdae never seems to mind anyway. His sturdy hands grip at Yixing’s hips and he grounds his feet against the floor to roll his body up into Yixing’s, pushing and pushing him against the hard wall and fucks his tongue into Yixing’s open mouth.

The way they play is soft as flower petals in the wind, but the way they fuck is like waves crashing in a storm. They only break apart for a breath of air as clothes is clawed off in a hurry, and there is no teasing, no foreplay when Yixing lays his cheek against the wall and Jongdae presses slick fingers into his body, and there are no sweet words when Jongdae fucks him hard and steady over that last wave of insanity.

 

They dress in quiet afterwards, sneaking glances until they just look and Jongdae leans against Yixing for another kiss. Yixing lets him and sighs softly into his mouth when the drag of Jongdae’s tongue is nothing but comfort and ease and everything it shouldn’t be.

“Thank you for the performance” he says when he pulls away, and Yixing thinks of petals tearing in screeching winds and wonders how they can be simultaneously on the same page and in completely different books.

“We should go, the building will be locked up soon,” Yixing is already halfway out the door when he speaks and so Jongdae waits at least a minute before he follows, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth even as he understands Yixing’s reluctance about him. When he exits the building onto the campus square he sees Yixing hurrying away from him, already at the other side of the stone plated circle. And so Jongdae stuffs his hands in his pockets and huddles into his winter coat and takes longer to walk the same path to his shared apartment, two blocks and three minutes away from Yixing’s. He doesn’t stop, but he slows down even more when he walks passed the door to Yixing’s apartment building, looks up at what he thinks is the eighteenth floor far above him and imagines Yixing hanging up his jacket, leaving his gloves on the table and putting on the kettle. Jongdae has never seen him go long without a cup of tea, he can only imagine Yixing has always been like that.

The remaining three minutes are reduced to only little over one as Jongdae jogs down the deserted streets to his own apartment building, unlocking the gate and sprinting to the elevator. The chill has really begun to set in his bones and he desperately wants a hot bath and an equally hot cup of tea, or maybe hot chocolate. He punches the button for the twelfth floor and dances on his feet the whole ride up.

When he opens the door to the apartment he is met with blessed heat and a delicious smell wafting in the air. Fei must be visiting again, he smiles as he leaves his shoes by the door and stash his jacket in the cupboard. He ruffles his hair out of its beanie-matted shape and sticks his head in the kitchen as he passes by. Fei is indeed at the stove, Jongin bent over her as they cook together, not even noticing Jongdae as he waves. The small living room is empty and so Jongdae pays no heed when he stands in front of the heater and warms his body in the warm air before heading to his bedroom. He can hear music playing from Zitao’s room along with a voice singing softly, so everyone is home, but more importantly the bathroom is free for him to use. His bag is left on the floor by his bed as he gathers a soft pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt as well as clean boxer shorts and runs to the bathroom. There is no way for him to take a bath sadly, but the hot water raining down on him from the shower head is a good enough substitute. He wonders if Yixing has a bathtub, he thinks he most probably does, Yixing has always struck him as a person who likes the relaxation of a hot bubble bath. More than that, Jongdae often imagines sitting in a bathtub in Yixing’s bathroom in Yixing’s apartment, the two of them together, playing footsie in the middle or making love softly and sweetly in ways they never do in reality.

A knock on the door and Jongin’s voice calling out “dinner Chenchen” pulls him out of his imaginings and Jongdae scrubs his body clean and rinses the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, dries quickly and dresses quicker. Fei’s cooking is not something he wants to miss out on.

 

Fei is standing over the table when he enters the main area, which is really living room and dining room and washing room in one, the washing machine is hidden behind a curtain in the corner by the balcony door, and Jongdae skips over to his seat, smiling around at everyone and everything and Fei laughs back at him. Jongin comes in from the kitchen then, four bottles of beer in hand which he distributes at the table and Zitao finally puts down his phone after most likely taking pictures of the food and posting them on weibo. Jongdae has stopped checking Zitao’s weibo a long time ago, but he thinks he remembers there being a lot of food pictures, and pictures of Zitao’s face.

“What are you grinning about Chen?” Zitao sneers without looking at him and Jongdae laughs and scuffs him over the back of his head. He takes a long drink of his beer before picking up his own chopsticks and waves them around a little as he decides what he wants to eat first. “He probably put toothpaste in your moisturizer Tao”, Jongin quips and Zitao retaliates with, “I think he put glue in your hair gel Nini,” to which Jongin sneers that he doesn’t use hair gel. Fei shuts them down by guessing he got tickets to a musical or other and then they are both laughing at him for being a theatre geek. It’s all in good fun so Jongdae laughs along with them and smiles down at his plate and wiggles his head in a _you will never know_ kind of way. He nearly chokes on his noodles when Jongin says, offhandedly, “he got laid”. His inability to speak for the following thirty seconds answers that for him and so Jongdae makes up a story about a girl in his class and how they had just been playing together in one of the practice rooms when one thing led to another. He doesn’t actually make the story up, as that is basically what happened, but he won’t tell them about Yixing. He _can’t_ tell them really, just like he can’t tell anyone, just like how he can barely tell himself what he is actually doing. It’s alright when he is with Yixing and all he thinks about is getting his mouth and hands on his quiet beauty, it’s alright when he thinks about having sex with Yixing when he is alone in the shower, but that doesn’t mean he is alright with how Yixing makes him feel any other time of the day. Because it’s not alright.

 

 

*

 

 

He puts the phone on speaker as he boils water for tea and rummages the fridge for leftovers to reheat as a dinner, waits through the long beeps for his mother to pick up on the other end. When she does all Yixing can hear at first is inane babble and high screeches and it puts a smile on his face unlike any other, soft and happy and so in love, and then his mothers’ voice filters through, laughing and a little breathless and Yixing feels infinitely more at ease.

“Hi mama” he calls out as he places a plate of beef and rice in the microwave, picking up the phone and placing it at his ear once he has entered the right programme. Another little shriek comes through the phone and the babble morphs into a mantra of _papapapapapa_. His smile stretches even further until he is laughing as well and his mother is laughing and his Li Yin is giggling along with them, and the weight on his shoulders drops once again. They talk while he eats, his mother telling him all about Li Yin and in turn Yixing tells her about his music, his classes, his students. She doesn’t ask him if he is seeing someone, but she never does and so Yixing never tells her. They don’t talk for long after that, and Yixing coos bye-byes and good-nights at Li Yin before they hang up, and then he sighs deeply into the sudden silence around him. His eyes fall on the piano in the far corner of the living room and he contemplates sitting down for a few hours, but instead he shuffles his feet towards the bathroom and fills the bathtub with hot water and bubbles. The always present cup of tea is placed on the corner of the bathtub and he folds his clothes neatly as he takes them off. Once the water is sufficiently high he turns the tap off and slowly sinks beneath the bubbles. He lets out another sigh, this time of pleasure and turns slightly to get the cup from beside his head. It’s dark inside the room, only the distant light from the kitchen illuminating parts of the room, creating just enough light for him to see. The water usually helps clear his mind, leaving it empty for the time he is soaking so he can properly relax, but this time it only helps put his thoughts into stark relief. His conversation with his mother replays in his mind, the soft warmth that is still there barely outweighing the hesitance and distance he created all those years ago. She never asks if he is seeing someone, because she doesn’t want to know. She loves him and she tells him as much all the time, but she doesn’t love the part of him that loves men. He hears it every time they talk, when she talks so much about Li Yin, and about Jia, how she is disappointed in him. She thinks it’s something he chose and doesn’t believe him when he says it isn’t. Li Yin came to be because, as always, he tried to do what would make her happy, and Jia would make her so happy, but Yixing isn’t one to lie to himself. With enough alcohol and enough dancing closely together he could manage a one-time-thing, but he will never be able to be with a woman in any other way. This time he had to be selfish.

But Li Yin, how he misses her. Her happy voice across the telephone line and her smiling face on a computer screen is only a brief comfort. His inability to take care of her alone weighs him down more than anything, makes him feel inadequate. Jia has stopped calling him to check up on their daughter, too many times he had to tell her he didn’t know, that she should call his mother, that she knows more about his child than he does himself. There is nothing that hurts more. It is just another month, he tells himself. One month and then Jia will be back and then they will go back to having Li Yin every other week, having her close and being close enough at all times, instead of being cities and half a country away.

He wishes suddenly that he had put some music on before getting in the bath, because the silence is no longer comforting. It is thick and heavy, not like a cosy wool blanket, it’s more like stones weighing him down and water suffocating him and beating at his body. It is physically painful as his heart squeezes in his chest. Sitting in the bath is no longer relaxing and Yixing reaches into the bottom to pull the plug and hurries out of the still warm water. He dries himself quickly and fumbles for the white terry robe hanging on the back of the door, wraps it around himself snugly and shivers in the chill of the apartment, only then noticing he hadn’t put the heater on. On bare feet he walks to the window by the kitchen entrance and turns on the radiator underneath it. Through the open doorway he sees his phone on the kitchen counter lighting up with a missed call and he tiptoes over the cold tiles then jumps back out onto the carpet when he has it in his hands. _Lu Han_ , blinks up at him in the gritty light from the tiny screen and Yixing draws in a deep breath as his hands shake a little. He hasn’t spoken to Han in more than a year, not since the other man called to congratulate him on his doctorate and his new position at the academy. Han has left him a voice message, but Yixing hesitates. He’s not sure if he actually wants to talk to Han again, but in the end he presses the button to listen. They were best friends once after all, before everything else. Once the automated voice tells him he has one new message and Han’s voice sounds in his ear, Yixing feels his breath hitch in his throat and his free hand fists the soft material of his robe.

“Hey Xing, it’s me. You must be busy, either that or you misplaced your phone again, haha.” It’s so painfully awkward, but it makes a smile lift the corners of his mouth. “I know we haven’t really talked lately, but I wanted to tell you that, well um … I’m getting married Xing. In August, “Yixing doesn’t care, he really doesn’t, “Seohyun, she really is the one Xing.” Though that hurts, if just a little. “Anyway, I’m calling because I want you to be there and I didn’t want to just send you an invitation. I guess I should have called again at another time instead of leaving this message, but … I don’t know. The wedding will be in Seoul, but if you come I’ll pay for your ticket and all so you don’t have to worry about any of that, and just send me a text okay? I miss you Xing.” The message ends with a beep and the automated voice telling him there are no more messages. All this goes through Yixing’s head, but he can only focus on one thing. _I want you to be there._ I want you to be there? Why would he want something like that? Yixing is only a reminder of the life Han walked away from, the life he didn’t want. Why would he want such a reminder now that he is getting the life that he always wanted, one that he is comfortable with living?

Bitterness surges through him and he drops the phone on the sofa as he passes it and pads into his bedroom. Once there though, the sight of the large double bed in the middle of the room, right underneath the window, makes his stomach crawl and his breath shake in ways that hasn’t happened since New Year’s Eve two years ago when he forcibly closed off his remaining feelings for Han. And it scares him, because it’s been two years, four since they actually broke up, and he can’t still have feelings for the man, that’s insane. But the bed, it’s the same one they bought together when they moved in to this apartment and it has always felt like them and Yixing suddenly realises that he never moved on from loosing Han. It’s _their_ bed, he sleeps in pyjamas that Han left behind, the book on his nightstand is Han’s and the shoes in the hallway are his and the jacket in the cupboard is one Han gave to him. There are so many traces of Han still in this apartment, in Yixing’s life, even after four years, a baby and an illicit affair that still doesn’t wreck him like the realisation of this does, and Yixing really doesn’t know how he can deal with any more. When did his life become such a mess, he wonders, but then realises that there was no starting point to the downward spiral he is in, it seems as if it has always been going and the speed of it has only increased as he got older. He scoffs a laugh at himself and in rebellion to his thoughts, flings himself onto the bed and spreads out on top of it like a starfish, his wrists falling limp over the sides. After that spontaneous movement he falls quiet. He stares up at the ceiling and tries to think about Han without feeling his heart clench and twist in his chest. It doesn’t work.

Then he tries to think about Han before they fell apart, before they were in love and before Yixing knew he was different than the other boys around him. When it was just the two of them, the best of friends, being joined at the hip the whole summer through and then the months of constant messaging that followed.

The summer when he was seventeen is still one of Yixing’s fondest memories, when he met Han in a sudden downpour and learned what it meant to be truly understood by another person. He smiles as he thinks about how the rain had soaked through Han’s thin shirt and shorts and how he looked so much like a drowned rat Yixing hadn’t been able to keep himself from laughing. And then Han had laughed as well because Yixing looked just the same and they laughed together for minutes before even giving their names. “I’m Lu Han” Yixing remembers Han laughing out, his words cutting through his soft chuckles, and then he had simply pointed behind them to the noodle stand that they had ducked into and Yixing had smiled and nodded through his own laughter and only introduced himself when they were sitting down with a bowl of steaming ramen each in front of them. It had always been so easy with the two of them. When it came to it, Han was the only person on Yixing’s mind when he struggled with coming to terms with his own potential homosexuality, and Han had been there for him through every step that followed. Years later when Yixing kissed Han in a drunken fumble it had been just as easy as when they first became friends and a week later had Han pushing him to his knees in the kitchen and that was that. There had never been a slow transgression into anything with the two of them, not to being friends, not to being lovers and not to being distant exes with nothing but scraps to pick up of what they once were.

He won’t go to the wedding. He accepts the fact that seeing Han with someone else is the last thing he wants, and maybe that means that he hasn’t gotten over the man. Even so, he pushes any thoughts of the man away once again and crawls off the bed and stumbles to the living room, he really need to do laundry soon or next time he’ll actually go head first into the wall, and settles in at his piano. Clicking on the lamp balancing on top of several books filled with his own compositions, he starts to play. After a couple improvised runs he finds himself playing the same song Jongdae had been playing earlier, the melody ingrained in his mind and flowing effortlessly from his fingers. He remembers Jongdae’s voice softly singing and remembers the feeling in his chest that the words gave him and he smiles as he sings along.

 

 

 

_I know you haven’t made your mind up yet_

_But I would never do you wrong_

_I’ve known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

 

 

 

 

 

**4 th of November 2015**

 

It isn’t his alarm that wakes him that morning, nor is it the sun shining through the window. It is the cold clawing at every part of him that has tremendous shivers racking his body. His eyes flutter open and his jaw clicks in a yawn as he takes in the messy lounge table and the television stand in the background. It hurts to keep his eyes open for too long and so he closes them and stretches on the sofa he had fallen asleep on last night. His back arches up from the brown polyester pillows and when he falls lax he lets out a sound that is a mix between a sigh and a groan. He had changed into sweatpants and a thin sweater after spending hours at the piano the night before, and for that he is grateful, if he had slept in only the bathrobe he would have been even colder than he already is. The television is buzzing still from the movie he put on and obviously fell asleep to and Yixing presses the off button when he passes it on his way to the bathroom. He sees the neon lights from the dvd-player change to display the time, 03.30, and sighs tiredly. After a quick piss he pats back to the sofa, grabbing the thick woollen blanket from the armchair and wrapping it around himself as he lies back down. He considers going to sleep in his bed, but the truth is that he doesn’t want to, not tonight. He had started crying after a couple hours of playing the night before and hadn’t stopped until the quiet noise of the romantic drama he had put on, lulled him to sleep. If he is completely honest with himself, Yixing isn’t sure why he had started crying, but it did make him feel a little better. He stares blankly at the dark ceiling above him, his gaze empty but his mind starting to race. He can only guess that it is the combination of his encounter with Jongdae, his conversation with his mother and the voicemail from Han that makes him unable to silence his thoughts and drift off as he so often does these days. It is strange though, how shaken he suddenly is by Jongdae. The two of them are nothing special, it’s a quick pleasure, something Yixing had gotten used to long before their working relationship changed little over a month ago. It’s not something he normally thinks about when it is over, other than the odd sprouting of guilt churning in his stomach. Maybe it has to do with Han, he realises in a flash of clarity. He had gotten so riled up the night before because of Han and it had made him realise that everything he is doing now is merely distractions. Jongdae is a distraction, and that makes him feel more than the usual guilt, it makes disgust crawl through his stomach because that means he is using Jongdae. This bright young man, his student, who has the potential of the world inside him and Yixing is using him, like an old man looking for a glint of satisfying youth to brighten his dreary days. His face scrunches together and he doesn’t feel that good anymore. He feels dirty. Not just on the inside, but it feels like there is a layer of grime on his skin and he needs to wash it away. So he gets up again, flings the blanket away from him with unnecessary force and flies to the bathroom. He turns on the shower head while pulling at his sweatpants and before the water has reached a proper temperature he is naked and stepping into the tub. For long minutes he stands under the spray, head down and fists clenched as tears might be mingling with water, he isn’t sure himself. When his hands stop shaking he picks up the scrub hanging on the wall and drags it roughly down his chest. He scrubs until his skin is pink and hurting and then scrubs a little more. Once he lets the scrub fall out of his hand and clang against the porcelain bottom of the tub he feels sore all over, but his mind is blessedly empty.

 

 

*

 

 

His alarm blaring right next to his ear is what wakes Jongdae that morning. His sheets are tangled around his legs, his pillow is somewhere on the floor and he is lying flat on his stomach. A regular morning for Jongdae, except he can feel something heavy lying between his legs at the end of the bed. Blearily he raises up on his elbows and squints into the darkness of his room and then squints against the harsh, though actually muted and comfortable, light from his night lamp once he turns it on. First he sees that the door to his room is cracked open and he realises that no one else has yet to get up as the lights are off in the hallway. Next he is startled by the sudden snort and wiggle from behind him and for just a moment he stiffens in fear, what if it is some kind of monster? But then he wakes a little more and realises the ridiculousness of that, he isn’t even afraid of monsters. So he turns, or tries to as his foot hits something soft and whatever it is makes another snorting sound and rests its head on Jongdae’s ankle. He smiles then as he realises what it is. It’s only Jjanggu, Jongin’s dog. Instead of getting out of bed like he should, Jongdae turns carefully this time and crawl to the foot of the bed to cuddle up with the sleeping dog. Jjanggu snorts again but continues to sleep and Jongdae smiles into his fur.

It’s only when he hears a door open further down the hallway that Jongdae remembers he is supposed to be getting ready for class, and then it’s a race to get to the bathroom before Zitao. He laughs as he hears Zitao whine just as he closes the bathroom door and he locks it as several knocks land on the wood, Zitao threatening him with bodily harm if he isn’t finished in ten minutes, but all Jongdae hears is fluff. The younger man might be like ten feet taller than Jongdae and kick ass with his kung-fu jedi tricks, but the guy screams at ladybugs. And cats. So Jongdae takes his time, makes himself look good, he even styles his hair and when he is done he takes care in choosing his outfit. He feels good once he is done and when Zitao whistles at him as he is drinking his coffee at the counter he tells himself he _is_ good as well. “Was she that good huh?” Zitao asks him, a leer painted on his face and for a moment Jongdae is lost. Then he remembers the story he laid out the other night and grins just as lecherously back. Inside though he trembles a little, because he was seconds away from asking what in the world Zitao was talking about, and Zitao isn’t slow, Jongdae would have been made immediately. Fearing Zitao’s prying, Jongdae fills his thermos cup with fresh coffee from the pot and shoves a bun and a banana into his satchel before leaving with a quick wave.

He walks leisurely along the street, taking bites out of the bun in between sips of his coffee and hums into the cold winter air. When he turns the corner onto the street where Yixing lives he sees the man come out from his apartment building and start down the street. Jongdae considers walking up to him, but instead drifts only a little closer and then keeps his distance, taking in the nice back view. He is wearing a bright red scarf around his neck today, large enough to cover his ears and with the way his head is slightly tipped forward, Jongdae guesses he is hiding his chin in it as well. He looks good. Jongdae has drifted a little closer than he meant, mostly because Yixing has slowed down as he searches through his shoulder bag, and when he stops and whirls around they come quite suddenly face to face. And Yixing looks terrible. His eyes are red and swollen and his whole face looks raw and he looks so tired Jongdae expects him to topple over any minute. He sees all this in the first instinctual meeting of eyes and then Yixing looks away from him and refuses to look at him even as Jongdae greets him a good morning. Instead he takes a shuddering breath and walks around Jongdae, shakes him off when Jongdae tries to stop him and hurries back to his apartment building. The corners of Jongdae’s mouth curl downwards and his brow knits together in worry. In a spur-of-the-moment decision Jongdae runs after him and catches the door right before it closes and slips inside. Yixing is at the elevator and Jongdae jogs to reach it before the doors closes and when they do and the two of them are alone in the confined space it turns into a mess of angry exclamations and worried hands trying to still Yixing’s lashing limbs.

“What are you doing Zhongdai?!” Yixing says angrily once Jongdae has both his wrists in his hands and is pulling him close enough to look into his downturned eyes. Even in all this commotion Yixing still refuses to look at him. Jongdae thinks he could be right in believing this has to do with how quickly Yixing left the day before, but he always does that and it has never caused something like this. Though, Jongdae realises, they haven’t actually talked so soon after hooking up before, and that might be it. Maybe Yixing is like this after every time, and it’s just that Jongdae hasn’t seen it before now. The thought has guilt churning his stomach and gripping his heart. Is this what he does to Yixing? He doesn’t delude himself with thinking that he is in any way forcing Yixing to have sex with him, but maybe it is habit by now. It’s so easy for them to find a moment of fast pleasure in each other and then walk away, but of course their situation has changed in the last month. Yixing isn’t just a teacher at the same school Jongdae studies at anymore, he is Jongdae’s teacher and, he realises, that must weigh heavier on Yixing than it does on him.

“I’m sorry,” he pulls away, lets go of Yixing and takes a step back, even holds his hands up in front of him. Yixing looks at him finally and Jongdae can feel his heart drop at the lost look on his face, the blankness of his eyes and even as he wants to reach out and pull the other man into his chest, when the doors open he lets Yixing go and then presses the button for the bottom floor. He is walking away, he knows, from more than Yixing in his apartment. He is walking away from having Yixing in his life the way he has gotten so used to, but if this is the price Yixing pays for them, Jongdae does it without regret.

 

 

**2 nd of December 2015**

 

Yixing is at the train station, one amongst hundreds, and waiting to see the first glimpse of his mothers aging face and his daughters gummy smile. He is smiling himself as he anticipates their arrival, sighing happily when people start spilling out from the train platform. Jia will be coming back in just a few days and so his mother is bringing Li Yin home to him. Finally, he thinks, and then he sees them coming towards him, his mother waving with Li Yin asleep in her arms. He greets them with a tight hug from his mother’s right side, careful with his sleeping baby girl resting against the woman’s left shoulder. Taking her bag, Yixing leads them out of the crowded station with a hand on her elbow and quickly hails a taxi once they are out.  The minute they are seated and on their way, Yixing reaches for Li Yin and his mother hands her over with soft hands and Yixing smiles happily when the little girl curls against his chest and grabs at the thick material of his jacket.

“She has missed you,” his mother says, strokes Li Yin’s head softly and then does the same to him, “and so have I.” Yixing smiles and feels his eyes watering slightly as he takes his mothers hand in his and gives it a light squeeze, “I have missed you both as well,” he says a moment before Li Yin stirs in his arms and lets out a whine. She squirms a little and hits her fists against his chest a few times before her eyes flutter open and she starts whimpering. Yixing places the pacifier at her lips and thankfully she sucks it into her mouth without any more fuss. It takes another few moments before she wakes fully and when she recognises who is holding her, her little hands reach up to his face and touches him as her mouth opens in a loud exclamation of happiness, the pacifier falling out, no longer needed. He will admit that he was worried she wouldn’t recognise him, even if they had talked almost every day, and her reaction fills him with so much warmth and finally puts him at ease. She quiets down again after that and rests contentedly against her father the rest of the drive to Yixing’s apartment.

 

Once they are inside Li Yin goes crawling off immediately while Yixing hangs all of their outerwear in the closet and goes to put away the bag of Li Yin’s things in her nursery. When he comes back his mother is, predictably, looking through his fridge and cupboards, all the while humming approvingly at what she sees. Yixing doesn’t tell her that he filled up those cupboards yesterday, knowing she was coming. They have been rather empty the last month.

Li Yin is sitting silently on the carpet by the sofa, looking around. Both his mother and Jia says she is so much like him, and Yixing laughs a little at that moment as he has to admit the two women are probably right. He picks her up as he passes by and she wraps her arms around his neck and cuddles her face into his throat. His mother is pulling vegetables and sauces and the packet of shredded pork out onto the kitchen counter and Yixing sits down on one of the bar chairs and places Li Yin down on the countertop in front of him. He can feel his mother look him over for several moments before she _tsks_ and goes to pull out pans and a cutting board. “You’ve gotten skinny Yixing,” she says in that stern voice she sometimes still uses with him, “you haven’t been eating properly.” Yixing doesn’t look at her, busies himself with poking Li Yin’s stomach and making weird faces at her so she giggles into her hands. “You have to start doing that now that you’ll be having Li Yin with you again,” she continues and Yixing feels that stab of pain he always gets when he thinks about his inability to take care of his daughter. “I know mama. I will,” he says quietly then changes the subject. “Do you think she needs to be changed?” His mother is quiet for several moments and Yixing knows she is looking at him with that disappointed look again so he doesn’t look up, “I don’t think so, I changed her not long before we arrived,” she says.

“Do you need any help with the food?” he asks, but his mother only shoos him away and tells him to go get reacquainted with his daughter and so Yixing smiles and lifts Li Yin up and slightly over his head to have her laughing like she always does. Then he leaves his mother to her cooking and brings Li Yin over to the sofa where she proceeds to roll around and into the soft pillows at the sofa’s back. Yixing laughs at her as he sits down and tickles under her feet, it doesn’t faze her and she instead rolls back over so that Yixing has to reach out and steady her before she goes over the edge and onto the floor.

“When is Jia coming back again?” his mother asks from the kitchen and Yixing sighs quietly before answering that she’ll be back in only two days. “Are you going to pick her up?” the woman asks then and Yixing frowns down at his baby girl this time, “no mama, I’m not” he answers and predictably his mother tells him he should.

“She’s the mother of your child, Yixing. I think you should at least try.” He knows better than to answer her with all the reasons for why he and Jia won’t work and instead says, “Jia and I are friends, mama. That’s good enough.” His mother _tsks_ again, but lets the conversation end there. He remembers the first time the subject of him and Jia came up. He told her that it wouldn’t work because he wasn’t attracted to the woman, that he wasn’t attracted to women, period, and she had told him how selfish it was of him to put himself before his child and the woman carrying it. It was the first time in his memory that he had cried from something his mother had said, and Yixing would rather avoid going down that path again. So instead he focuses on his daughter, and when the food is ready they eat in silence and while Yixing feeds Li Yin and gets her ready for bed, his mother busies herself with looking over his notebooks in his bedroom. It may have been his grandfather who taught music to Yixing when he was a child, but his mother knows her share as well, and she always give good advice and Yixing loves talking composition and arrangement, and just music, with her. When Li Yin has fallen asleep in her crib, Yixing goes to bring out the futon from his wardrobe and sure enough his mother is still there, quietly perusing one of his textbooks on compositional theory. Her back is ramrod straight, however, and she doesn’t turn when he walks in like she usually would. For a second he wonders if she is still sore from their earlier discussion, but during dinner and the time after she had been happy and warm, and so he thinks it can’t be that. A quick look around the room shows him the drawer in his nightstand, the one on the right of the bed and against the wall, is partially open and Yixing knows he didn’t leave it like that. He is absolutely certain because of the contents of that drawer. It’s where he keeps his condoms and lube, inconspicuous enough yes, but along with the vibrating egg and rather large dildo along with it, his mother has seen more than she ever wanted. He decides not to bring it up, a thing that has become habit to him, and walks slowly to the wardrobe on the opposite wall from the bed and digs the worn futon and the blanket and pillow out from the bottom of it. He sends his mother a last look, but she won’t acknowledge him. Saying a soft good night, Yixing leaves the bedroom to his mother.

 

*

 

It’s early morning two days later when the bell rings in the hallway of his apartment. His mother is somewhere in the kitchen or living room and Yixing is giving Li Yin a bath so he leaves it to his mother to see who it is. Even if it makes him a little nervous, because it should be too early for it to be Jia and the only other person Yixing can think of that would be at his door is Jongdae. And that would not turn out good, for anyone.

A minute later as he is swaddling Li Yin in a towel he hears two female voices greeting each other happily. So it was Jia.

Hurriedly he makes his way from the bathroom to the hallway where his mother is taking Jia’s coat from her, and by the large suitcase standing just inside the door Yixing guesses she came straight from the airport. Not that he blames her, he was just as eager. It’s why he interrupts the two of them in their conversation instead of waiting for them to notice him, and the smile that lights up Jia’s face when she sees the two of them standing there is truly beautiful. She squeals quietly and stretches her hands towards Li Yin and Yixing lets her take the little girl into her arms, watches them with a small smile as Li Yin stares up at Jia with big, round eyes. The two women walk into the apartment while Yixing pulls the suitcase into a better position so he can close the door, before joining them in the living room. They are sitting on the sofa when he enters, already talking about Li Yin and Jia and how her flight was and about Seoul and as always, Yixing doesn’t know how to fit himself in. It is alright with Jia, the two of them have become close friends in the two years since they met, but when it is Jia with his mother Yixing always draws away. This time he goes to the kitchen to make something for lunch for all of them. He prefers it actually, to distance himself from conversation with the two of them. As Jia knows well why the three of them will never be more of a family then they are now, and with his mother subtly trying to make exactly that happen, they tend to grow awkward quickly. They are not far away however, and Yixing can hear them perfectly from the kitchen and there is that feeling of a knife going through his stomach again. Jia is perfectly casual, Yixing knows she doesn’t blame him in any way, but when she says she would have been able to handle both the dance program and Li Yin in Seoul, he feels acutely his own shortcomings.

“I would have taken her with me,” she says, “but I couldn’t do that to Yixing.”

 

A few hours later Yixing’s mother puts Li Yin in her stroller and says she will walk until the baby falls asleep, so that the two of them could catch up, she says on her way out. Yixing sighs, but Jia only laughs. That’s the difference between the two of them, while Yixing feels every attempt of his mother’s to push them together as another weight on his shoulders, Jia only finds it amusing. He does pull her into a hug though and tells her it’s good to have her back. It is a little awkward between them, Yixing feels ashamed suddenly and anticipates what Jia might say. She might have left for three months on a scholarship she had applied to long before she even got pregnant, but Yixing doesn’t doubt her when she says she can do both, be both a professional dancer and a mother. He knows her strength, and it only paints his own weakness in brighter colours.

She doesn’t say anything like that though, instead she says; “you don’t look good.” There is a frown on her brow and in her voice and her hands are soft when they feel his forehead, but her finger is sharp when she pokes his stomach. She doesn’t say anything else on it for now and instead starts pestering him about the things she wants to know, but wouldn’t ask in front of his mother.

“Are you seeing someone?” she asks first, casual and looking down at her tea. Yixing doesn’t answer her, it is not like her to be this coy, and he gets the feeling she is deliberately beating around the bush. Instead he only looks at her until she raises her eyes to meet his.

“I am going to take that as a no” she says then and smiles big. The reaction is not one he expected, with the vigour she attempts to set him up with someone all the time, her happiness at his bachelor status takes him by surprise. Only for a moment though.

“I met this guy in Seoul, he’s Chinese, and he’s a photographer. He was in Korea for a project and we lived in the same hallway when he was in Seoul. Anyway, he is probably the most handsome man I have ever seen, and he’s crazy tall, like really crazy!” She is so excited Yixing feels himself start to smile as well, and to be honest, it sounds promising so far. If, that is, Yixing isn’t misunderstanding her.

“So naturally” she continues, “I tried flirting with him, asked him out even, but he never responded and, lo and behold, he’s as gay as you!” She says it like a great exclamation and then smiles teasingly at him, “well, maybe not quite as gay as you.” Yixing is in a good enough mood suddenly that he only breaths a laugh at her and shakes his head.

“The point of this, however, is that he is coming to Beijing in like a week, and I might have said that I have a friend, that’s you, who would be interested in showing him around.”

He smiles at her and then drops his eyes to his tea. It sounds good, and he knows he could use a distraction, but he was counting on Li Yin being that.

“I’ll be taking Li Yin with me today, and she’ll be with me for the next two weeks, that’s what we agreed on. You are going to need another distraction Yixing.” It’s eerie how she can read him sometimes. They haven’t known each other that long, and while they are friends they don’t spend that much time together, but Yixing reckons he must be pretty easy to read. Jongdae hadn’t had any difficulties reading him either.

He agrees reluctantly and she pulls a piece of paper out from her back pocket. On it is written a name, _Wu Yifan,_ an address and a telephone number. “I’ll give your number to him and tell him when you’re free so you won’t have to call him first,” Jia laughs.

Yixing is grateful and dismayed at once. He knows that if he had to take the first step it wouldn’t be done, and Jia knows that too.

It isn’t long after that his mother comes back and when Jia gets ready to leave Yixing insist on following her home, saying it would be too much for her with the heavy suitcase and a baby. She agrees and after she has said goodbye to his mother, the elderly woman smiles brightly at him. He smiles back, but avoids her eyes and closes the door with a wave.

Li Yin is still asleep when Jia sets her down on the sofa in her apartment, half an hour later, and Yixing feels slightly sorry for it. Instead of hugging her like he wanted, he strokes her head lightly and places a soft kiss on her cheek before he leaves Jia to settle back into her home. The morning after, he drops his mother off at the train station before classes and while his eyes water when he watches her go, it is also a great weight off his shoulders.

Exactly a week later, Yixing gets a call from an unknown number.

 

 

**11 th of December 2015**

 

The cold is starting to numb his fingers and the amount of people around him makes him doubt his _date_ would ever find him, but Yixing doesn’t move from his spot right under the arch at the entrance of the night market. He alternates between blowing warm air on his fingers and looking around for the tall, blonde, exceptionally handsome man. Jia had given him a picture a few days before so he knows who he is looking for, but there are just too many for him to see. He hopes the man could get there fine on his own, but Yixing reckoned it wouldn’t be the hardest to find, being so close to the Forbidden City and as popular as it was.

A hand landing suddenly on his shoulder startles him enough that he lets out a slight squeak, which in turn causes a chuckle from the man behind him. Who turns out to be the one he has been waiting for, and wow, he really _is_ the most handsome man Yixing has ever seen.

“Sorry,” he smiles down at Yixing, really down as well because he is almost a head taller than Yixing, at least half a head taller and Yixing is slightly dazed from the sight of him. _So handsome_. The man laughs a little again and ducks his head and Yixing only blinks at him, not realising he had said it out loud.

“You’re Yixing right?” the man asks, “I’m Yifan.” Yixing smiles a little at his voice, it’s a nice voice, a little deep, a little gruff, and also a little childish. Yifan smiles back at him and it’s still a little subdued, but it is bigger than before and it makes him look a little cute. Yixing takes a moment to study the man, his thick eyebrows and round mouth, and then his shoulders that look strong even if they aren’t the broadest. He dresses nice, even if the pattern on his trousers are questionable and he has had the sense to put gloves on his, very large it seems, hands. The man, Yifan, clears his throat and shifts on his feet for a second, “I haven’t confused you for someone else have I?” he asks and Yixing realises he must have been staring longer then he thought, not that this comes as a surprise to him. He clears his throat as well and looks up at Yifan’s face again, a smile painted on his lips. “No,” he says, “sorry. I’m Yixing, it’s nice to meet you.” Yifan smiles even wider, and it’s a really gummy smile that makes him look younger than he is. He turns sideways and gestures with an arm at the busy street behind them and Yixing takes the first step and allows Yifan to put a hand on his back for a few moments before the man retracts it and they walk closely side by side. The wander the street at a slow pace, buys sticks with fried chicken and squid and crab cakes and dumplings, both fried, boiled and steamed and dare each other into trying the scorpions and the frogs, and Yifan teases him with the snakes’ multiple times when he sees how Yixing draws away from them. The atmosphere is good, Yixing has laughed more in the short two hours since he met Yifan then he remembers doing with anyone for a long time. When Yixing feels he can’t eat anymore they buy a stick of small sugar glazed apples at one of the stalls and finds a relatively quiet place to stand. Yixing holds the stick in his hand, eats one apple in three big bites and then holds the stick out for Yifan. The other man takes hold of Yixing’s hand to keep the stick steady while he eats the second apple and the warmth of his gloved hand feels good around Yixing’s near numb fingers. Unconsciously, Yixing takes a step closer to Yifan and near cuddles into the mans side before he catches himself, but Yifan only puts an arm around him and draws him even closer when he tries to move away. It feels better than Yixing could have imagined, being with someone who cares as little as he does if their intimate embrace is noticed by passer-by’s.

 

When they start walking again, Yifan lends him his gloves and Yixing accepts them, but laughs when he sees how big they are on his hands. Yifan sends him a questioning look and Yixing only holds his hands up between them so he can see as well. They laugh quietly together, walking closer than before and with their heads bent towards each other as Yixing guides them onto another street where vendors are selling silk tapestries and decorated chopsticks and all sorts of trinkets, mostly intended for tourists, but both Yifan and Yixing end up buying some as well. Yifan buys a long silk tapestry with a red dragon and the Chinese characters 耐力 in one corner, and says it will look good in his bedroom. Yixing smiles at him and asks teasingly if Yifan is coming on to him, or if there are other activities he does in his bedroom that would require stamina. It leaves Yifan stunned for a moment, and Yixing smiles gleefully at finally seeing that look on his face, as he is sure Yifan must have seen it countless times on his face already. Yixing leaves him standing there as he goes to pay for a golden hairclip he had seen earlier, it is light and small and the ivory butterfly pinned to it is absolutely beautiful. It will look nice on Li Yin.

When he has paid and made his way out on the street to Yifan, the other man presses up close to him and whispers, “that looks nice. So is that a thing you like? Should I be prepared for satin dresses and high-heeled shoes as well?” and Yixing is so gobsmacked that he can do nothing but stare wide-eyed at Yifan as the other man starts to laugh.

It takes Yixing at least ten seconds to come back to himself and by then Yifan is already several stalls down, still laughing heartily at him. Yixing hurries after him and when he is right at Yifan’s side he reaches up, stands on his toes and curls his arm around the mans neck and pulls him down. He stops halfway to bopping him on the head and lets’ go instead, huffing all the while as Yifan only laughs. The light-heartedness of the moment eventually pulls a smile from Yixing and soon he is laughing as well and they don’t stop until they are at the end of the shopping street and it is suddenly near complete dark around them. Yixing holds onto Yifan’s elbow and presses close into his side and lets Yifan guide him to sit down on the edge of a stone fountain. The stone is cold to sit on, but when Yifan lets him lean against his shoulder and in turn clasps Yixing’s hands in his, it doesn’t feel as cold as it did before. They can just about see each others faces in the muted, blue light shining from below them in the fountain and with the distant clamour of the market in the background, it feels like the perfect moment. Yixing lifts his head from Yifan’s shoulder and looks up at him, at his sharp jaw and his styled hair and his kind eyes that lock expectantly with his own. Without saying anything, letting their eyes do the talking, they both lean in and meet in a soft kiss that feels even more right than anything else previous to it.

When they pull apart only seconds later, smiles paint their faces and Yixing wonders if Yifan’s heart is beating as fast as his.

“It’s getting late” Yifan whispers, his breath fanning over Yixing’s face and smelling of fried food and warmth, “I should get you home.” In a couple dates maybe, Yixing will protest to that, insist he is capable of getting himself home, but tonight he lets it slip and only smiles in response. It didn’t feel right anyway, to part ways just like that. So they make their way to a more populated road and hails a taxi and Yixing tells the driver the address to his apartment building. On their way, Yixing points out little streets and the general position of shops and restaurants he knows, he has been to this area quite a bit so there are a lot, and when they pass it he points at the academy where he teaches and tells Yifan a little about his music. Yifan follows him out of the taxi after they have paid and Yixing sends him a look full of laughter as they stop at the door to the building.

“I didn’t want to say good night in front of him” Yifan says defensively, but then he smiles and pulls Yixing close with a hand at his waist. “I had fun today,” he says and his voice is low and warm and it sends a shiver down Yixing’s back. He feels so good, right in this moment. “So did I,” he whispers back and then Yifan is kissing him, a little harder than before, but still soft, a little more explorative, but still hesitant. The kiss feels like Yixing feels right now, warm and happy yet still a little uncertain.

“Can I see you again?” Yifan asks when they part and Yixing nods into another kiss, this time by his initiative, “is Sunday good?” Yifan asks then, in between small kisses and Yixing only hums. Yifan’s lips feel too good and he can barely focus on anything else, but he still hears what Yifan is asking and it is relieving to know that Yifan is as desperate as he is to see more of him. Yixing entertains the thought of asking him upstairs for a cup of tea, but decides against it. He wants something new, he wants this thing with Yifan to be something different. “Lunch or dinner?” Yifan mumbles against his lips and Yixing breathes out, “can’t I have both?” and then Yifan is laughing, and it sounds relieved and Yixing knows exactly how he feels.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow then.” Yifan pulls away from their last kiss, a deep one where their lips had fit perfectly together, and steps back. Yixing digs his keys out from his coat pocket and unlocks the door. He takes a look back at Yifan still standing on the sidewalk, smiling, and smiles as well. “Good night” he says. “Good night Yixing” Yifan replies.

 

*

 

Yixing spends the Saturday in a distant haze, trapped in his mind and the memories of last night with Yifan. He realises astutely that he hasn’t felt anything close to this since the day he first met Han. It is the excitement of a new relationship, but it is also more than that. It is a feeling of contentment, of rightness and pieces falling together in a predestined puzzle. Yifan calls him around midday and they agree to meet outside of Yixing’s apartment building at noon the next day. Yixing says he’ll take Yifan to a cosy teahouse just off campus and then they can figure out where to go from there, when that time comes. He tells Yifan to dress warmly as they’ll be walking, and Yifan laughs and corrects him by saying he should be the one to tell Yixing that and reminds him specially to wear gloves.

It is exciting to think about the spontaneous nature of their upcoming date. Not planning has become a foreign concept to Yixing and it has him pacing restlessly around his apartment instead of preparing for next week’s lectures like he should be doing. He goes to bed early, and thinks about the smile on his face and how it feels strange to be so happy.

 

Yixing is up at five the next morning, brews himself a cup of tea and curls up on the piano bench and looks out the window while sipping from it. He feels calmer than he did the day before, or the day before that, but he is also slightly apprehensive. Never once did he think he would get along with Yifan this well, that he would like him as much as he does already and it has him slightly off-kilter. Yifan is definitely handsome, so Yixing can understand how he is physically attracted to the man, but it was Yifan’s voice that first drew him in. How it was so warm, like Yifan turned out to be, and also somewhat childish, which Yifan also turned out to be. There was a unique innocence to the man that Yixing even now finds himself smiling at. Yifan was a blend of all these different quirks and qualities that worked together within him and made Yixing laugh more than he has in what feels like a millennium. So he decides not to think about it, decides to do something different, he wanted Yifan to be something different so that means he too has to be different. He is going to enjoy himself today, he decides as he finishes his tea and puts the cup down on the piano. He opens the lid and lets his fingers glide over the keys and he starts to play. An hour later he finds himself playing the Bob Dylan song Jongdae had performed on the winter recital that week and, with a start, he realises the work he has deferred doing. He sets an alarm so he won’t be late and then spends the following hours preparing for next week’s lessons.

 

Yifan texts him at a quarter to twelve to remember gloves and Yixing, who is already waiting on the sidewalk looks at his hands and then fumbles for his key to get back inside. He has indeed forgotten his gloves, again, and he laughs at himself as he takes the elevator back up to his floor. When he opens the door to his apartment he sees his black gloves on the edge of the chest of drawers and remembers he put them there the night before so he wouldn’t forget. He laughs again and decides not to tell Yifan. The sidewalk is still empty when he comes back out, but only a couple minutes later Yifan is stepping out of a taxi and walking towards him with a big, gummy smile on his face. Yixing hesitates for a moment on what to do, but Yifan pulls him into a loose hug the moment he is close enough and they exchange soft _hello’s_ into each other’s shoulder. After they part there is a moment where they look at each other while smiling awkwardly and swaying on their feet and then Yixing throws a hand out and gestures the direction down the street and they both chuckle a little as they begin to walk. The feeling is decidedly different then their first date, but it is not in a bad way. It only feels more precious, not just like they are getting to know each other, but like they are testing the waters, figuring out who they are in accordance to the other. It feels more like a second step really, than a second date.

“I was thinking … how much has Jia already told you about me exactly?” Yifan asks after a minute of walking in mostly silence. Yixing looks up at him for a glance and twiddles his thumbs while he thinks. “Not that much really,” he says with another glance up at Yifan, “she told me you’re a photographer and that you travel a lot.” Yifan hums and in the following silence Yixing draws closer to him, slips his hand between Yifan’s arm and his chest and holds onto his elbow. Yifan smiles softly at him, a slight upturn of the lips but mostly with his eyes and Yixing thinks he looks beautiful, gentle despite his sharp eyebrows.

“I am a photographer, independent photographer, I go where my work takes me, or where I can get work. I have a project for a travel magazine now, as well as with Dongliang …” he stops short, blinks at Yixing a little and Yixing quickly tries to school his face into something a little less like complete ignorance and confusion, and quite obviously fails. “It’s a retail company for Chinese designers, anyway it’s not important, I have a couple assignments here in Beijing and around, and am also looking for more so I can stay longer.” He stops talking completely after that and when Yixing looks at him he can see a blush slowly dusting across Yifan’s cheeks and he bites back a smile.

“I hope you can stay longer,” he says and Yifan’s eyes dart sideways to meet his and maybe Yixing is blushing a little as well, but it’s alright. They walk past the main entrance of the academy and Yixing guides Yifan across the road and into a small street. The second door from the road, a dark brown one, is their goal and Yixing enters first and holds the door open for Yifan to follow. Inside is only a few degrees warmer than it is outside, but the tea house is empty except for them so they get the table right in front of the radiator and the warm air flowing from it has them both humming in contentment. They each order a pot of green tea and a serving of dim sum, “I think the owners are from Guangdong,” Yixing offers and then they sit in silence again. Yixing doesn’t know what to say, as Yifan’s question earlier had him thinking of what Jia could have said to Yifan about him. Does Yifan even know about Li Yin? He never mentioned anything the other night, not even when Yixing bought the hairpin for her, and if Yifan doesn’t know, should he say something now?

A hand on his startles him out of his thoughts and before he can stop himself he is already spilling his mind, “I have a daughter!” Yifan looks at him, strokes the back of his hand with his thumb and smiles patiently, it calms Yixing down quicker than it should. “You already know that,” he mumbles then and Yifan nods. “Jia told me about you and LI Yin before she got it in her head that we should hook up.” His mouth stays open and his teeth come together and Yifan looks away from him for a moment and then clears his throat and looks back at him again. “I didn’t want to use those words,” he says and it is so honest, and Yixing gets that feeling of testing the waters again and so he says, “I bet Jia didn’t expect anything more from me.” They smile at each other and it is the same uncertain one they had shared so many times during their walk.

 

*

 

Yixing can’t stop smiling the next day. He and Yifan had gone sightseeing after their little lunch, mostly walking around in circles and then taking a taxi to another area to walk in even more circles, and had shared a wonderful dinner together. When they had made the walk back to Yixing’s apartment building Yixing had pulled Yifan by the hand into the hallway and pushed him against the wall. They had made out for quite some time in the empty hallway, but Yifan had eventually pushed him away with the same reasons why Yixing still can’t understand why he did what he did the previous night. This is something different, and it all felt like they were moving at super speed. Neither of them wanted to add more kindle to the fire already burning between them. Not so soon.

So Yifan had stepped back into the cold and Yixing had taken the elevator up to the eighteenth floor and watched from his kitchen window as the older man hailed a taxi and disappeared down the street.

For the third night in a row, Yixing had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.

 

None of his students comment on his new attitude, at least not to his face, but they all seem to work quicker, more diligently, the mood is uplifted and when he sees Jongdae his mind is still too clouded with Yifan to give him a second thought. He finishes his last class with a brilliant smile and quiet applause as he gives praise and nothing but praise to his students and then he doesn’t even stop by his office before he leaves.

It seems as if his good mood is giving him exceptional luck as well and he gets a taxi almost the moment he steps onto the sidewalk and then he is off to pick up Li Yin from Jia’s dance studio. They have both been rather reluctant on placing her in day care and so Li Yin spends the day with whoever of them has the best circumstances to take care of her and then the evening and nights are spent with whoever’s week it is. It has worked out nicely for them in the five months since Jia went back to work, but Li Yin needs to spend time with kids her own age, as both their mothers insist on all the time. So from the new year she has been enrolled in a day care centre right in between Yixing and Jia’s apartments. And while on one hand he is excited for his daughter, on the other he is as cautious as Jia about leaving her in the care of strangers. Jia’s mother, a frank and honest woman, tells them they are both idiots. His mother quietly agrees.

 

For now, he is content with taking the extra long taxi drive to the dance studio where Jia works, already some ways from Jia’s apartment, to get his precious daughter back. Once there, he opens the front door carefully and slinks inside as quick as he can. He looks around himself carefully and in his distraction he jumps at the sound of a voice from the front desk. “She’s not in today” the woman, the owner as he understands it, says. Leant over the counter and writing at the computer, she doesn’t even look at him. Yixing lets out a quiet sigh and his shoulders sink in relief.

“Do you know where Jia is?” he asks and the woman points to the hallway and says “room number 3” and then goes back to her typing. Yixing awkwardly bows in gratitude and shuffles on his feet for a couple seconds before walking down the hallway. There is no sound in the hallway, the doors and walls so well isolated that not even a thumping bass can leak out and into the other studios, but when he opens the door to room number 3 he is hit with a cheery pop song blasting from the stereo. The room is filled with small children, boys and girls alike, all jumping around and trying to follow a simple choreography. Jia is at the front helping one girl who is awkwardly flailing her arms and legs about. With a glance around the room he sees Li Yin siting on a mat at the very front of the room, by the mirror wall, clapping her hands and bouncing in excitement, with a pair of baby earmuffs on her head. Seeing his daughter so happy makes him hesitant in taking her away from this, so he waits by the door until the music shuts off and Jia is gathering all the children in the middle of the room for a send off. They gather in one big group hug and then the children are running off and out of the studio. Jia notices him then and waves him over. When he is close enough that Li Yin notices him she waves her arms and squeals out papa over and over and his heart beats faster in his chest from looking at her beautiful smile. He picks her up and she cuddles into his chest and holds tight to the lapels of his jacket and Yixing buries his nose in her hair and inhales deeply, a smile still firmly on his face. Jia has been cleaning up the mats around the room, but when she reaches them she cunningly takes Li Yin from his arms and dances a few steps away from him.

“Don’t think you’re getting away before you and me have a talk mister!” she says in a teasingly stern voice. “Are you holding our daughter hostage?” he asks back and Jia only laughs and sits down on a mat on the floor, Li Yin beside her. Yixing sits down as well so their daughter is in between them and resigns himself to having to tell Jia all about Yifan.

“So how did the date go?” she asks and follows up before he can answer, “wasn’t he as hot as I said? Where did you go?” He scoffs a laugh at her and takes Li Yin’s tiny hands in his, lets her bite at one of his fingers as he answers.

“Dates” is the first thing he says and Jia’s eyes go wide as saucers, but she doesn’t say anything. “They went well, really well” he says and he can hear the disbelief in his own voice and knows Jia must see it in his face as well. “We went to a food market and just walked, and then yesterday we spent the whole day together, lunch at that teahouse I like so much and then we just walked some more, just talking. Getting to know each other you know.” There is quiet between them for a moment as Jia can see that there is more Yixing wants to say, while Yixing isn’t sure if he should say it.

“I really like him.” He whispers it in the end, and Jia smiles softly at him and then ruins the moment a second later. “So was he good?” she asks, excitement in her voice. “He was good wasn’t he? You’re practically glowing so he must have been.” It takes Yixing off guard even though he knows it shouldn’t and he stumbles for words for long enough that Jia starts laughing. She stops abruptly however once he manages to squeeze out, “we haven’t actually … “and her surprise isn’t really a surprise to him.

“Oh” she says and then they are quiet again. She smiles at him eventually though and says “I hope it works out for you Yixing, I really do.”

When he leaves shortly after it’s with a smile on his face and a feeling in his stomach as if he had just gotten the okay to move forward with Yifan. And that thought makes him smile even wider.

 

**20 th of December 2015**

 

He texts Yifan every day that week, on Thursday they even meet up for lunch and he brings Li Yin along and Yifan is just wonderful with children. Another point to add to the list of reasons why he should date the man. There isn’t much time for another proper date though, but Jia stops by his apartment early Sunday morning and takes Li Yin with her after only five minutes and leaves him with the information that Yifan is waiting on the sidewalk. And while he is sad to see his daughter go so suddenly, he is excited at the prospect of another day with Yifan. The thought of going anywhere though, isn’t that enticing, so he waits for Jia to walk off before he invites Yifan inside.

“I can make tea, and lunch. And we don’t have to be out in the cold, so that’s a bonus” he rambles on in the elevator and Yifan watches him with patient amusement for about two seconds before he is shutting him up quite effectively with a hand on his cheek and warm lips to his. Yixing melts into the kiss and lets out a soft, breathy whine of content that makes Yifan laugh deep in his throat and it is such an attractive sound, Yixing feels his whole body respond. They break apart as the elevator doors open and walk with intertwined fingers down the hall to Yixing’s apartment door. It’s a little open as he had rushed out earlier with Jia and he blushes a little as he pushes the door open for Yifan to step through. They toe of their shoes and Yixing takes Yifan’s coat in silence and hangs it up in the closet, pushes his old green coat all the way to the back to make room for the large woollen knee-length coat. It’s so different from anything Yixing normally wears, but it feels comfortable and warm and he kind of wants to hide himself inside it. Instead he turns to Yifan who is still standing behind him in the entryway and gestures him inside.

“Do you want a tour or” he trails off and licks his lips. This is more awkward than he had anticipated. “Here is the living room at least, and the kitchen. Through there is the bathroom, so you know that at least.” He stops talking and looks down at his feet. He isn’t quite sure what to do now and Yifan isn’t being very helpful with how quiet he’s being.

“I’ll go make some tea then” he mumbles and shuffles off to the kitchen. He hasn’t gotten very far though, only as far as the open doorway a couple steps away, when Yifan suddenly moves very quickly and pushes him up against the wall. Yixing fumbles for a second, his eyes flickering all over the place before Yifan tilts his head up and presses a firm kiss to his mouth. “Sorry” he mumbles in between kisses, “can’t help myself.” Yixing only smiles and frames Yifan’s hips with his hands and pulls him even closer.

“I don’t mind” he tries to say, but he can’t be sure if Yifan understood him or even heard him, but it doesn’t matter. The kissing is nice and Yixing really doesn’t mind.

It is several minutes later that Yixing pushes slightly at Yifan’s chest and they stand pressed against each other, breathing heavily and looking into each other’s eyes.

“I think I really should make tea now” Yixing whispers breathlessly and Yifan laughs as he steps back. Yixing stays leant against the wall a moment longer and then slips past Yifan into the kitchen. He fills the kettle with water and pulls a bag of crackers from the cupboard beside the fridge and places it on the kitchen island. A moment later he snatches it back up and gets a small plate to serve them on instead and at the same time takes two mugs out and lines them up on the counter.

“What kind of tea do you want?” he asks Yifan who is leant in the doorway watching him. “Anything is fine” he answers and Yixing pulls out two bags of green tea and plops one into each of the mugs. The water is boiling in the kettle and after only a few seconds it switches off and Yixing nearly burns himself on the water as he simultaneously pours water in one of the mugs and fishes for the string attached to the tea bag. He feels embarrassed when he hisses at the close call, but Yifan is right there cradling his hand in his and kissing his temple. “Calm down” he whispers against his ear, “you don’t have to be nervous.” Yixing sinks back against his chest, but scoffs a little at his words.

“You’re in my home for the first time, are you telling me you’re not the least bit nervous?”

“I didn’t say that, because I am, but we don’t have to be right?”

Yixing turns his head up to look at Yifan and when their eyes meet he feels it, that they really don’t have to be nervous. Because being with Yifan is comfortable and safe and when he stops to think like this, he realises that he has nothing to worry about. So Yixing puts the kettle down on the counter and turns around in between it and Yifan and pulls the other man down with arms around his neck and they kiss until their tea is lukewarm and they have to brew more.

 

*

 

“I don’t usually do nature shots, but a sponsored trip to Kenya, all inclusive? I couldn’t say no.” It is hours later and their mugs of tea have been substituted with glasses of red wine and Yifan is on story number five. It doesn’t seem like he minds telling them though, and Yixing is completely riveted by every one of them. Yifan really has been all over the world and he has so many interesting, colourful stories to tell as a result. Yixing really feels the difference of the lives they have lived and a sting of regret hits him. He wishes he had used his youth to travel and see the world, like Yifan has. Now he can only live it through Yifan’s engaging storytelling and the pictures he paints even without them physically there to see. But with Yifan sitting close to him, their knees touching and one of Yifan’s arms slung across the sofa’s back, his fingers rubbing circles into Yixing’s neck, it doesn’t feel that important. Everything he has missed, he sees now that he is still not too old to experience new things. Yifan is definitely something new, and very exciting.

“Are you hungry?” Yixing asks when Yifan falls silent. Yifan drains the last of his wine glass and presses a quick kiss to Yixing’s mouth before saying that he is. So Yixing takes both their glasses with him to the kitchen, fills his own with more wine and lifts the bottle to Yifan who follows him more slowly, and pours him another glass as well when he nods.

“I meant to make black bean noodles today, and that is basically all I can make right now so I hope you like it.” Yixing laughs as he pulls the ingredients onto the counter and then takes a sip from his wine. Yifan comes up beside him and hums, large hands shuffling the ingredients around and effectively distracting Yixing.

“You can do the pork, I don’t really like handling raw meat” he says and Yixing is completely lost for a moment as Yifan takes the onions and cabbage and potatoes from the mess in front of them.

“Where do you have the cutting board and knives?” Yifan asks and Yixing mumbles something unintelligible and points in the vicinity of where he keeps them. Yifan finds them rather quickly despite the horrible directions and glides one set over to Yixing while he places another down in front of himself. He stills for a moment and then waves a hand in front of Yixing’s face, scaring him out of his trance. Yixing jumps backwards and sucks in a breath as Yifan laughs at him.

“Where’d you go there?” Yifan chortles and Yixing shakes his head and blushes a bright red as he bites his lips together. No way is he going to answer that.

Yifan lets it go at that and they work together to make dinner, sharing small talk in between taste tests and in the end they have a rather tasty meal on their hands. Yixing feels a new kind of satisfaction when he takes the first bite that he is sure comes from not having made it all on his own. Cooking for himself and eating on his own is something he dreads every day and it is why he hardly eats home cooked food on the days Li Yin is with Jia. They eat in silence, but the atmosphere is still just as good and it is comforting to look across the island at Yifan and he likes the sound of another pair of steel chopsticks clinking against a plate. It’s good not to be alone.

 

They leave the dishes in the sink for now and while Yifan goes to the bathroom, Yixing curls into a corner of the sofa and drapes the blanket over his legs. Having Yifan here for the entire day has been wonderful. The conversation, the company in itself, has had a unique effect on him. He is at ease and most of all, happy. That isn’t something he often boasts about being. His whole body tingles with it, and while it might be because of the alcohol in his blood, he is certain part of it is because of Yifan. Because of the fact that Yifan is in his apartment, has been sitting on his sofa and has probably seen through the open bedroom door more than once. He pats at his warm cheeks, he isn’t sure if he is blushing or what, but a warmth is starting to set in his body that has nothing to do with alcohol or food or the comfort of Yifan’s company. The intensity of it is familiar and normally he would be making his way to his bedroom already, laying himself out to wait for Yifan there. What stops him is exactly what makes being with Yifan feel so good. This is something different, it has been from the beginning. From the instantaneous connection that formed between them, to the rush of emotions he felt during their second date together. It was like his soul looked upon Yifan and found its mate, and Yixing isn’t quite sure how to handle that. Isn’t quite sure if he has the capability to do so.

When he glances over to his bedroom again he catches a large figure in the corner of his eye and so he turns slightly in his seat to find Yifan standing in the middle of the room just looking at him.

“Sorry” he says when he realises he’s been caught. “You just looked so beautiful.” Yixing blushes at the compliment and bites his bottom lip as his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. He had run his eyes up and down Yifan’s body and he is sure the other man noticed and while it feels like the night is leading up to exactly what he wants it to, he doesn’t want to push himself on Yifan in any way. Even if the other man had been very forward in his affection early on in the day, it is not like they haven’t kissed like that before. They have never had sex before.

Yifan sits down beside him and lays his arm across the back of the sofa. His long fingers dig gently into the back of Yixing’s neck and start to massage circles into his stiff muscles. Yixing lets out an involuntary moan and bites his lips closed.

“I feel like this is going somewhere” Yifan says and Yixing nods and hums through his closed mouth. “I just need to know that we’re on the same page.”

Yixing turns towards Yifan and places one hand on Yifan’s bicep on top of the sofa’s back and the other he uses for balance when he leans forward to entice Yifan into a kiss. They meet in the middle and it doesn’t feel any different than the kisses they have already shared, but the excitement building inside Yixing is unlike anything he has felt probably since Han broke up with him. Even the first time with Jongdae didn’t get him this turned on so quickly. Maybe it’s because of the prospect of Yifan’s experience, maybe it’s his size or maybe it’s because of the way he looks at him. Whatever it is, Yixing is climbing into Yifan’s lap as quick as he can and he groans softly when Yifan places his large hands on his back and holds him close. He buries his fingers in Yifan’s hair and when he tugs slightly at the strands, Yifan groans against his mouth and rolls his hips up into him. They start moving against each other, and Yixing rolls his hips on top of Yifan just as desperately as the other man is holding onto his body and their lips press together in kiss after kiss. Yifan’s tongue in his mouth sends a thrill up his back and shoots heat straight through him from his fingertips to his toes until it settles in his crotch.

It is a relief when Yifan starts pulling at the hem of his thick sweater and the chillier air of the room around them hits his overheating skin. Slowly, Yifan glides his hands up Yixing’s naked back, the hem of the sweater catching on his wrists and being pulled along until his hands reaches Yixing’s shoulder blades. Then he takes hold of the sweater and pulls it over Yixing’s head and his raised arms and as it falls to the sofa beside them the intensity of their kiss increases and their hips stop moving, tucked firmly against each other.

When they break apart they are both breathing heavily and Yifan is running agitated fingers along the seam of Yixing’s trousers on the outside of his thighs.

“I got to admit, keeping my hands off you have been really difficult since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Yifan confesses against the hollow of his throat and Yixing lets out a laugh mixed with a moan and runs his hands over Yifan’s shoulders and down his back. His hands catch on the back of the sofa, but he runs them all the way down to Yifan’s hips and then glides the tips of his index fingers along his belt to the front of his jeans. He cups Yifan’s cock in his palm and rubs the heel of his hand up and down the hardening length. Yifan moans into his neck and bites down gently on the skin under his mouth, a moment later he is sucking a dark red mark into it that Yixing will never be able to hide. He throws his head back and moans loudly to the ceiling when Yifan’s hands move over his thighs and squeezes and then pulls him even closer so that while he is rubbing Yifan’s cock he is also rutting against the back of his own hand. It feels wonderfully dirty and suddenly all Yixing wants is to be naked with this man and do unspeakable things with him. So he pulls himself away from Yifan’s hot body and pulls him up from the sofa by the hands and Yifan groans deep in his chest when Yixing starts leading him to his bedroom.

 

Once they reach the side of the large bed Yixing stops and loosens the fastenings on his trousers, dropping them to floor along with his boxers, toes of his socks and then kicks them all away. He turns slowly to face Yifan, hums at the rough slide of Yifan’s calloused hands across his naked skin, and with his eyes locked on Yifan’s he undoes his belt, pops the button and slides the zipper of his jeans down in one, slow motion. With his fingers hooked under the hem of Yifan’s boxer shorts, he sinks to his knees as he pulls the last pieces of Yifan’s clothes off his body. He hears Yifan draw in a quick breath above him, sees his finely toned stomach move as he takes a hold of the man’s cock. Yifan has large hands and large feet so he was expecting him to have a large cock as well, he just wasn’t expecting it to be so thick. It’s not the longest, Yixing thinks he has him beat in that department, but it is thick enough that he isn’t sure if he will be able to fit it in his mouth. Not for long at least.

He decides to test it anyway and wraps his lips around the tip of the mushroom head. Yifan hums and pushes one hand through Yixing’s hair and rests it on the back of his head. It stays there motionless and gentle as Yixing sucks on the head of his cock and laps the slit until precum starts trickling out. When the salty taste hits his tongue Yixing pulls back and places his lips right against the tip and sucks gently for more of it. He holds Yifan’s cock steady with both hands and sinks slowly down on the shaft, his lips stretching wide around the impressive girth of it. He chokes a little simply from the effort, but soldiers on until he is halfway down Yifan’s length. He stills and runs his tongue up and down against the underside of Yifan’s cock, and then with the flat of his tongue pressed against the thick vein there, he moves back up to the head and sucks hard. Without taking a breath he sinks back down on Yifan and repeats the same action, once, twice, three times before pulling off completely.

Yifan’s fist is tight around his hair, but never once has he tried to control his movements and to show his gratitude Yixing ducks his head and sucks his balls into his mouth, first one and then the other. Apart from the initial hum of pleasure that Yifan had let out, he has been oddly quiet the whole time Yixing has been working his cock, but when a kittenish tongue flicks out in quick laps to the vein on the underside of his cock a quiet moan starts building in his throat. Yixing holds his cock upright with one hand around the head, his thumb occasionally rubbing across his slit, as his tongue traces the vein from base to tip and back, over and over again. After a minute of the excruciating teasing Yifan is practically tearing him away and lifting him to his feet. He catches his mouth in a positively bruising kiss and walks him backwards until his knees buckle against the edge of his mattress and he falls backwards on the bed. Yifan sinks to his knees in front of him and parts his legs, throws them right over his shoulders and frames his hips with his large hands as he looks up at him.

“You’re a bloody tease you know that? Now let me show you how a blowjob is supposed to be done.” The words zap through him like electricity and before Yifan is anywhere close to his cock, Yixing is tangling his fingers in his blonde hair and pulling. Yifan breaths a laugh across the head of his cock and then he takes it in his mouth as far as he can in one go. He takes him almost to the root and then he sucks hard as he pulls back to the head. Yixing has no breath to make any sound as all the air seems to be punched out of his lungs from the delicious suction and instead a tinny whine is all that comes out through his clenched teeth. He’ll have to agree with Yifan on one thing, he does know how to give a proper blowjob.

Yifan takes him in again, this time not quite as far, but the pleasure is the same when he sucks in his cheeks and pulls back to the head, his tongue dragging against the vein on the underside of his cock. He sucks a few times at the head of Yixing’s cock and swirls his tongue around and across it before going down on it again, this time all the way to the base. With his nose buried in Yixing’s clean pubic hair, smelling faintly of something fruity underneath the musk, Yifan swallows and his throat closes around the cock in his mouth and above him Yixing nearly shoots off the bed. He had moved quickly and the abruptness took Yixing completely of guard and as Yifan swallows for a second time around him he lets out a loud, wanton moan and tightens his thighs around Yifan’s head.

Yifan pulls back and looks up at Yixing heaving for breath with his eyes screwed shut and his body stiff as a board and decides; to hell with it. He can always get him hard again; he wants to take this slow anyway.

He leans forward again and takes Yixing’s cock back in his mouth, sinks slowly down to the base again and at the same time takes one of Yixing’s balls between the fingers of one hand. Just as he swallows around Yixing’s length he squeezes gently around his ball and with his other hand he teases a finger around Yixing’s puckered opening. The multitude of sensations has Yixing convulsing and hitting the mattress with clenched fists and a moment later as Yifan pulls back to suck at his head, he comes hard into his mouth. Yifan swallows it all and when he pulls back he does it with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“That! Is how you give a blowjob,” he says and while Yixing thinks he would normally want to wipe that smirk off his face, right now it would be a crime not to agree.

 

“Get up here” Yixing says once he has caught his breath. Yifan has let his legs fall off his shoulders and is running his palms up and down his calves, but he is still sitting on his knees on the floor and they must be aching by now. Yixing places his heels on the edge of the bed and scoots back a little and then he turns so he is laying the right way on the bed. He tilts his head to look at Yifan and crooks his finger at him, bites his lip and teases him with one foot rubbing gently against his pectorals. Yifan grabs his foot, his fingers wrapping around his ankle and when he climbs onto the bed he wraps that leg around his own waist and lays down on top of Yixing. He straddles Yixing’s left thigh and rubs his hard cock against the muscled appendage. Yixing whines in discomfort as his sensitive cock is pressed against Yifan’s hip and so the other man sits back on his haunches and wraps a hand around his own cock instead. But that’s not right either and so Yixing sits up as well and reaches out with his hands to take over, but Yifan stops him before he can touch him.

“I don’t want to come yet” he says and pushes Yixing back with a finger in the middle of his chest. Yixing goes easily, lets himself fall back on the bed and instead rakes his eyes over Yifan’s naked body. He really feels like he won the jackpot this time. It has been a long time since he has been with someone who made him feel this good. Four years to be exact.

“Where do you keep things?” Yifan asks. Sitting between Yixing’s legs and tugging slowly at his own cock he looks positively delicious and Yixing struggles for a moment to remember exactly where he keeps things. He points first to his right and then to his left, “the drawer” he says and reach out for any piece of Yifan he can touch. He lays his hands down on top of Yifan’s thighs when the other man moves to straddle his waist so he can reach the drawer in the night stand to the left of the bed. Yifan’s skin is warm under his palms and the hair on his legs tickle softly at his skin when he ghosts his hands over the length of them while he waits. Seconds later Yifan is back upright on top of him and placing a condom and a bottle of lube on the bed beside them.

“That’s quite a monster you have in that drawer” he says. It is mostly teasing, but there is a slight layer to his voice that makes it sound like he is impressed. Yixing blushes as he remembers the dildo he keeps in the drawer. He doesn’t use it that much, but when he does he has no problem taking it. It’s why Yifan’s sizeable cock has never scared him, it just excites him.

“So, how do you want this to happen?” Yifan asks and Yixing doesn’t really know what to answer him. “I really want to fuck you” Yifan continues and Yixing is close to nodding his head because he wants that too, “but I’m good with either way.” That stumps him a little. He is sure he would like it, but the fact is that he hasn’t actually fucked anyone in a very long time. He and Han used to switch it up, but ever since they broke up he hasn’t felt like doing it. It’s mostly easier to find a good fuck when you’re willing to spread your legs any way.

“I want you to fuck me” he says and decides not to think about anything else for now. He isn’t sure if it would end so well if he tried fucking Yifan right now and he doesn’t want the hassle to ruin their good night.

“I was hoping you’d say that” Yifan practically moans and leans down to kiss him. He moves downward on the bed again, uses his arms to push his body down, and when he places one knee between Yixing’s legs the younger man nearly topples him over when he tries to move his still trapped leg to wrap them both around him. Yifan takes a hold of his knees however and push them down on the bed so he can sit freely between them. Then he reaches for the lube and quickly lathers the fingers of his right hand with it. He takes a moment to rub the slippery substance over his fingers, heating it up a little, and in the time he does that Yixing never once takes his eyes off him. The steady look burns through him and with his hands fisted loosely in the pillow on either side of his head Yixing looks like a perfect blend of dominate and submissive. It shoots electricity down his spine and makes his stomach churn with a molten heat. He covers his moment of hesitance with a smirk and a raised eyebrow and then he lifts Yixing’s left leg over his shoulder and slides one finger all the way inside him at once. Yixing lets out a breath at the sudden rush, but that is all. His face doesn’t even twitch. A frown curves Yifan’s brow and he pulls his finger back out and traces it slowly around the puckered opening. He is going to have Yixing begging for him by the end of the night, he swears to himself. And if he ever complains about the teasing, Yifan will tell him that he brought it upon himself.

 

Yifan leans down to kiss him and he lifts one hand from beside his head to wrap it around the curve of the man’s neck. First their lips drag dryly over each other, short barely there, kisses that brings their faces close and makes their noses rub and Yifan’s breath ghosts over his cheek and his chin and into his hair and then he is back to press dry lips against the corner of his mouth. Yixing bites lightly at Yifan’s bottom lip and Yifan sucks on the curve of his top lip and they separate to look into each other’s eyes. Yixing swipes his tongue over Yifan’s lips and into his mouth, traces his teeth and strokes over the top of his tongue before retreating. Yifan follows him and their mouths seal tightly together in a more satisfying, but still tame kiss. Yifan is teasing him, he realises as the man closes his mouth to his tongue and refuses to do more than rub wet fingers over his hole.

“You’re terrible” he breathes and moans as the tip of Yifan’s finger dip inside him. This is taking far too long. Yixing arches his back from the bed and spreads his legs wide and moans when he pushes down on Yifan’s finger and manages to get it further inside him. Yifan groans but pulls his hand away completely, but the show has served its purpose and before Yifan even realises Yixing has covered his own fingers in lube and is pushing two at once inside himself.

“I thought you said you were good at this,” Yixing taunts with a smirk that doesn’t last long as his fingers press against his prostate. His head falls back against the pillow and his fingers thrust hard and fast inside him, sending tremulous pleasure up his spine and into his thighs.  Yifan is quiet for a long while, only watches Yixing stretch himself open with dexterous fingers, but then he blinks and his face twists in a frown. It is obvious to Yixing that the man was offended by his words, but if he thought he could get away with teasing him the way he was doing he might as well be offended. Yixing doesn’t really care. There are more important things to focus on than pride in this situation.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” he goads and Yifan slowly starts moving again. He drizzles lube into the palm of his hand, holds the bottle high above it and squeezes slowly for the slippery substance to come out. Not once taking his eyes away from Yixing he coats his fingers again and presses one inside him, alongside Yixing’s fingers and the younger man seizes up at the sudden burn of the stretch of four fingers inside him, but skilfully forces his body to relax. He smiles a crooked smile up at Yifan and suddenly this feels more like a competition, like they are challenging each other to do better. Their fingers move in tandem inside him and with his free hand Yixing picks up the wrapped condom from the bed and rips it open with his teeth. He fumbles a little to get it out and then he reaches down to place it at the head of Yifan’s cock. As their fingers tangle together inside Yixing, the fingers of their unoccupied hands tangle around Yifan’s cock and together they push the condom onto his considerable girth. Yifan’s hand is wet with lube and he slicks it over his own cock and then reaches for Yixing’s and pulls at it a measly three times before he pulls back completely. His fingers, two of them now, leave Yixing’s body and he sits back on his haunches and pulls lazily at his own cock with a slack smirk on his face. Yixing has him right where he wants him however, and if the man wanted to tease him more he should have gone about it in a different way. Like he is now however, it is far too easy for Yixing to climb into his lap and take his mouth in a rough kiss. When he makes a move to take Yifan’s cock the other man is ready, his hand at the base of his cock holding it steady for Yixing to sink down on. And Yixing does, all the way at once. His muscles are loose from the generous preparation and while Yifan’s cock is thick, five fingers were plenty enough. He stills with Yifan inside him, sitting on his thighs and holding himself steady with arms thrown over his shoulders, and they kiss until they can get their bearings. The sudden intensity of being joined in such a way, after building up to a momentum this feels almost like putting the breaks on, but neither of them will complain.

 

Yifan moves first, rolls his hips as best he can under the weight of Yixing on top of his thighs. Yixing moans and clenches around Yifan’s cock, places kisses along the man’s jaw and bites at his earlobe. He likes it best like this, if he is honest. Likes it best when he has a sense of control, of the pace and the way they fuck, of his partner. So he lays his forearms over Yifan’s shoulders, tangles his fingers together behind his neck, and lifts from his lap. The muscles in his thighs clench and release when he falls back down and the slide of Yifan’s thick cock is so good inside him. He repeats the motion after a few seconds, lifts up and falls down. Yifan holds his hips in his large hands and tries to pull him closer as he fucks up into Yixing as best he can, but Yixing bites again at his earlobe and surprisingly Yifan folds. His hands are still on Yixing’s hips, but it is mostly to keep him balanced as Yixing slowly fucks himself on his cock.

They keep that pace for some time, mouths sliding together and fingers running over heated skin as Yixing rocks slowly in Yifan’s lap to the rhythm of a melody in his head. It is the same song Jongdae had played at the winter recital some weeks ago and Yixing, while mostly distracted, still worries about the implications of that. It’s not like he loves Yifan, but still that song won’t leave his mind whenever he’s around him. He blinks several times to clear his head and raises up as far as he can without Yifan’s cock slipping out of him and instead of falling back into his lap as he would before he moves slowly, so slowly, back down on Yifan’s cock. He takes a breath and ups the tempo, rocking and swirling his hips without lifting from Yifan’s lap, irregular and unpredictable movements, anything to keep from falling into that rhythm again. He can’t handle that right now.

“Yifan” he breathes. Yifan is breathing heavily and his grip on Yixing’s hips grow tighter and tighter, but he is clearheaded enough to realise Yixing wants something and is not simply saying his name. Yixing however, stays silent. He doesn’t actually know what he wanted to say. Something profound maybe, something to test the water like they have been doing every time they’ve seen each other. Or maybe to refute any reason for why he would get so caught up in something more than getting to know each other, and picking himself out of his slump, having sex. Instead he says the simplest, most circumstantial thing.

“Fuck me.”

Yifan turns them over, lays Yixing down on the bed and hoists his legs one over his shoulder and the other around his waist. Without hesitation he fucks into Yixing at a faster pace, rolls his hips expertly and sticks his tongue in Yixing’s mouth to swallow the sudden influx of sounds spilling from him.

His mind is blank, physical feelings taking over as Yifan holds him tight and fucks him into the mattress. All he knows is Yifan’s body on top of him, Yifan’s hands holding onto his right knee and fisting the covers beside his head, Yifan’s cock inside him and the slap of Yifan’s sweaty thighs hitting against his equally sweaty buttocks. It is purely physical, hard and fast and good and crazy, and Yixing is coming before he even realises it, shooting cum over his stomach and clenching involuntarily around Yifan. Yifan’s hips stutter and the man groans loudly as he thrusts into Yixing one last time and then stills as his orgasm rips through him and sends shivers to every inch of his body.

 

The sun has set completely by the time they catch their breath and the darkness of the room is a relief to Yixing.

Yifan had kissed him after they came down from their high, he cupped his face and kissed him so gently and didn’t say the classic words of _thank you_ or _that was good_ like Yixing has gotten so used to over the last years. Instead he had asked _you alright_ and placed tiny kisses on his mouth and it had Yixing’s mind racing again. Suddenly it wasn’t just physical again and while it felt good, Yixing still doesn’t know what to do about it. He turns his head to Yifan and runs his eyes over the man’s face. His thick brows are as eye catching up close as they are from afar and while Yifan knows how to use them to make him look intimidating or simply intense, now his face is slack. His mouth is a little open as he breathes, thick lips forming almost an oval shape. He lifts a hand and traces Yifan’s sloping jaw with his pointer finger to his chin where he lays the pad of that finger flat against the hard bone under Yifan’s skin. Yifan swallows and his jaw moves and then his eyes flutter open and he breathes in deep through his nose. The moment their eyes meet it feels like time stops around them. The air is still as if the very dust particles swirling around in it has frozen and Yixing can hear his heart beating loudly in his chest, hears the blood it pumps through his body swirling in his ears. A shrill whistling sounds in his head until he swallows. The words leave him on a breath before he can think to stop them. “Stay the night” he says and Yifan kisses him sweetly and closes his eyes again. He wraps an arm around Yixing’s waist and even if they are lying with their heads at the foot of the bed and their bodies are still dirty with sweat and cum, Yixing curls closer and places his hand on the dip of Yifan’s waist. They can stay like this a while longer at least.

 

_I could make you happy,_

_Make your dreams come true._

_Nothing that I wouldn’t do._

_Go to the ends of the earth for you_

_To make you feel my love._

 

**3 rd of February 2016**

 

The apartment is clean, the fridge is stocked with food, the wine cabinet holds three new, unopened bottles, one of which is Yifan’s favourite red that he had splurged a little to buy. The shelf beside the bathtub is filled with vanilla scented bath salts, in the drawer in the bedroom is a new bottle of lube. He has even turned the corner of the duvet down. Everything is perfect, everything is ready for Yifan’s return. Except that is not happening today.

Yixing sits curled into the corner of his sofa with his phone clutched in his hands, sulking. Yifan had called to say his employers were unhappy about some aspects of the shoot he had been working on and wanted him to try a different concept. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow at the earliest. All of Yixing’s well-laid plans for their reunion flushed down the drain. The last three days Yifan had been in Shanghai doing a photo shoot for an independently owned vintage warehouse. He was friends with the manager, he had explained on the phone to Yixing, and owed him a favour. The call had come in the morning and Yifan had left for Shanghai as quick as he could, calling Yixing on the train to explain the situation. The man, Yifan didn’t mention a name, had apparently been Yifan’s benefactor of sorts when he first wanted to begin working freelance five years ago. Without the financial aid he had provided him, Yifan wouldn’t have gotten very far. So Yixing could understand why Yifan would drop everything to help the man, even at minimal pay, but it had him sulking anyway.

Like a child, he thought. Curling his arms around his legs and chewing on the inside of his cheeks, he didn’t feel very grown up. Suddenly he wished Li Yin was his for the week and he considers calling Jia to ask if he could have her just for the day. Then he remembers that she was supposed to take Li Yin to a playhouse today, along with a friend of hers and her daughter. Min, he thinks her name was, but he can’t be sure. He has never really had a part in Jia’s life outside of their daughter. He sighs heavily and unfurls himself from his curled up position. His phone is dropped on the sofa and he trudges to the bathroom, quietly stopping the bathtub drain and turning on the water. He holds his fingers inside the stream to check the temperature and when the water is so hot he feels as if he would burn himself he stands up and drops his loose clothing to the floor. He was only wearing a pair of harem pants and a low-necked top in wait of Yifan’s return as the man told him once he liked it when Yixing wore casual clothes like that. He scoffs at himself as he dips one foot into the hot water. In just a couple months his life has become unrecognisable to him. Instead of spending long evenings in his office, he is hardly at the university outside of his lectures and scheduled office drop-in hours for his students. He comes home and makes dinner for two, three on the weeks he has Jia, or he gets ready to go out with Yifan for dinner. He smiles every day because he can’t help it.

That in itself is a strange concept to him. For so long Li Yin has been his only reason to really smile. While he finds joy in his music, it is a solitary one. And seeing his students grow and become better musicians is a bittersweet happiness at most. Being with Yifan has changed him, and Yixing will be the first one to admit, that that scares him. More than a little. He doesn’t want to become dependant on Yifan the same way he was on Han. He doesn’t think he can handle another crash like that if he now builds his happiness around Yifan only to have the man leave.

The water is piping hot still when he sinks his other leg into it and for a while he sits on the bathtub’s edge, cupping water in his hands and pouring it over his thighs and running his wet hands over his upper body. When he thinks he can handle it, he steadies himself with palms on each side of the bathtub and slowly submerges the rest of his body. The hot water prickles his body and he squirms a little as he gets used to it, but eventually he can settle down with his head resting on the edge and relax. With his eyes closed he breathes in air already humid from the heat and lets his body go loose, floating in the water. His mind empties and he lets his worries be pushed back by the gentle rippling of the bath water and only Li Yin’s happy face stays behind his eyes. And his mother’s face, younger and less lined, from when he was younger and lighter and not soiled by the hardships of life. Lu Han’s face the moment they met and realised they were meant to be the best of friends. Yifan’s face in the darkness of his room, slack with sleep and radiant in the afterglow of love.

 

Love.

 

Yixing is pretty sure he is falling in love with the man, bit by bit through gummy smiles and calloused hands and dumb jokes and hoarse words spoken over the phone line in the dead of night. He tries not to think about it, maybe if he just lets it happen without interference from him, it will actually turn out good. Yifan is all smiles all the time, and kindness and warmth and gentleness and sometimes he is even as pure as a child. He can’t possibly do this wrong.

Sometimes Yixing wants to tell Yifan that he loves him. He wants to test the waters like how they always did when they first met. Most of all he wants to know if Yifan will say it back. On the phone earlier when Yifan told him, with genuine regret in his voice, that he wouldn’t be able to make it back tonight. Yixing wanted to tell him then. “It’s okay. I love you.” He wanted to say that, but he didn’t dare. The last thing he wants is to put Yifan in the uncomfortable position of not knowing what to say in return.

He takes a breath in and slips down in the bathtub until his head as well is completely submerged in the water. There he goes thinking too much again. His bath hour is meant for unwinding and not thinking about all the things that haunt him every other hour of the day, but lately he is unable to leave his troubles at the door and brings them with him wherever he goes. He emerges from the water with a gasp and pushes his hair back from his face with both hands. Blindly, he reaches for the towel he readied beside the bath tub and wipes his face of the water. His skin prickles uncomfortably, his cheeks stinging from the warmth and Yixing rubs at them in an attempt to cancel it out. For some reason, his stinging cheeks remind him of the time years ago when he told his mother the truth about who he is. At first she hadn’t believed him, _stop joking with your old mother_ , she had said. When he had cried and insisted he wasn’t joking, that he was telling the truth because he wanted her to know, she had called him selfish and slapped him across the cheek. Till this day he still feels the sting of regret and the choking guilt of having driven his mother to do that.

She had cried for the rest of the night, not because of what he had told her, but because of what he had driven her to do. And he had spent the night with his head in her lap telling her over and over how sorry he was. They worked through it for the most part after that, but Yixing hated himself for disappointing her as he did. Sometimes he still does and Li Yin’s existence is the only thing that keeps him from being consumed by it.

As the water is failing in distracting him, he starts humming a random tune to stop his mind from swirling with thoughts and regrets, but the piano he hears in his head is not played by him. It is played by a young Korean music student that Yixing has done his very best to forget.

 

He hasn’t spoken to Jongdae outside of classes since that time in the elevator. The guilt still gnaws at him though. Sometimes he wakes up feeling dirty and he will scrub himself red in the shower, but as long as he can’t scrub his insides clean, he fears it will never go away. The guilt, the regret, the disgust. There are so many situations, big and small, long-lasting or short-term, that has his skin crawling when he thinks back on them. He would think it would stop affecting him eventually, but he guesses that is his lot in life.

He has never been satisfied with the things he does. There are always some wrongs to be found and his mother and his teachers and even Jia has tried to shake him off it, and every time he will tell them it’s not that bad. That he is alright.

That is probably the biggest lie he has told in his entire life. And it is one he keeps repeating. Even to Yifan, who is always truthful with him. It has become second nature to lie about himself, not about the things that defines him as a person, never about things that concern other people. But Yixing will always say that he is alright, even if he never is.

 

With no reason to stay up Yixing goes to bed early that night and he wakes up early the morning after. He dresses in silence without the music playing from the radio as it usually would and he is out the door in half an hour, not bothering with breakfast at all. He’ll get something from the pastry shop near the school.

His walk is slow and his feet scuff against the asphalt with every step there. With his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his chin buried in his vibrant red scarf he curls in on himself. The wind is biting as it whistles through the streets and when he steps inside the pastry shop he takes a moment to let the warm air from the pump above the door flow over him and heat up the tips of his red ears. The shop is moderately full already, but he only has to wait a minute in line before it is his turn. He orders a large cup of black oolong tea and shows the collection of pastries on his tray and asks for a bag for take away. After he has paid he turns around and sees Jongdae on the other side of the shop, looking over the assortment of filled buns. The younger man has yet to see him and so Yixing lowers his head and scurries out of the shop like someone trying desperately to avoid an awkward situation. And most likely, that is exactly what he did.

He walks briskly across campus and up the stairs and down the hall to his office, mind busy with imagining what he would say to Jongdae if they ever talked again.

Once he reaches his door he makes sure to turn the sign hanging beside it to say that he is in office before making his way inside. He doesn’t have any lessons today, but the next four hours is office time dedicated to his students. They have an assignment in two weeks so he is expecting a busy day.

What he is not expecting is for there to be a knock on his door only a minute after he has sat down in his chair and for Jongdae to be the one on the other side. Yixing doesn’t quite know what to say and remains frozen in his seat, but Jongdae steps inside and closes the door casually behind him. He takes a breath, of course Jongdae is probably here for advice on his assignment and Yixing is his professor, damned to hell but still his professor. It is his job to be the best he can for his students, and that includes Jongdae.

Except Jongdae isn’t here for help with his assignment.

“I’m sorry” he starts once he is seated in the chair in front of Yixing’s desk, “I know I shouldn’t be using of your time today to talk about this, but you’ve been kind of difficult to get a hold of lately.” Yixing knows perfectly well what Jongdae wants to talk about. He is absolutely not ready to talk about it, but he owes it to Jongdae.

“I’m sorry” he says, it’s a whisper really and he can’t seem to find his voice again after those words leave his mouth. Jongdae had been studying the design on Yixing’s notebook, but when he hears Yixing’s voice his eyes snap up to meet his and they are wide in bewilderment. Almost like he doesn’t understand what Yixing is apologising for.

“You’re not apologising for not being here are you.” He speaks slowly, like he is gathering his words while he speaks, and it is a statement more than a question. Yixing bites his lips and shakes his head. He feels as if he might cry, but he doesn’t think he has the right to. Jongdae is the one that has been wronged, Yixing has no right.

“Well, I’m sorry too,” Jongdae’s voice is clear and strong, but soothing at the same time. “If I had known what it was doing to you, I wouldn’t have insisted on it happening again and again.” Yixing tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows, but he still can’t find his voice. He needs it, he needs to tell Jongdae that he has nothing to apologise for. He is the victim in this dreaded affair, he is the one who was used and Yixing is the lonely old man who used him. He needs to tell him all this, but he is too much of a coward to do so.

“It was alright in the beginning, but we should have stopped when you became my teacher.” Yes, they should have, he should have. But he didn’t, he held on with his greedy hands to something he shouldn’t have had to begin with.

“I …” Jongdae stutters for the first time. “I didn’t want to let go, I mean, the sex was good. I mean …” He stops and bites his lips, his breath whistling out between his teeth and Yixing can see his fists clenching and unclenching. It’s not you fault, Yixing wants to say.

 

Why can’t he speak?

 

Instead he sits there and watches Jongdae struggle on his own with an apology he shouldn’t be making. It makes him feel sick.

“I know we couldn’t have had anything, not now at least” Jongdae seems to have gathered his wits and his words now, “but even if we could I’m not sure I would be able to.

“I liked having sex with you, it felt good, but that was all physical. When it was over I could hardly even think about it without feeling some level of disgust.” _Because I took advantage of you._

“I wasn’t ready, I’m still not ready to admit to anyone, I can’t really admit to myself either, that I’m like that.” His speech is stuttered and he can’t look Yixing in the eyes, but his next words break Yixing’s heart in two. “I took advantage of you, and I’m so sorry.”

Yixing is still quiet, more so now because he is trying his best not to cry, and when he doesn’t get anything in return from the older man, Jongdae gathers himself and rises to his feet. “I’m sorry” he says one last time as he makes to leave. Yixing feels his heart beat faster, and his mind starts to race as he realises that Jongdae must think he is rejecting him. That Yixing blames him for what happened between them. He scrambles for words to say, anything to keep Jongdae from leaving so Yixing can have more time to explain himself. No, not explain himself. Nor excuse himself. All he can do is tell the truth as it is and not as Jongdae sees it, so the younger man can rid himself of the apparent guilt he is carrying around.

“You didn’t” he says and Jongdae stops at the door. Yixing clears his throat, “you didn’t take advantage of me Zhongdai. Not at all.”

Jongdae sits back down in the chair and looks Yixing right in the eyes. “You have it all wrong Zhongdai, it is the other way around.”

“I was using you. I didn’t realise it at first, but I was. I’m so sorry.” Jongdae’s brow is furrowed and his mouth is pursed and the guilt crashes around inside Yixing with the force of a tempest. The room is dead silent for a while after that, both of them lost in thoughts about the past.

“Yixing” Jongdae says, using his name for the first time since that night in the practice room. “Whatever wrong you did it doesn’t cancel out the wrong I did. So maybe you did use me, but I used you as well. We took advantage of each other in a very unhealthy imitation of a relationship that I think the both of us are better off putting behind us.” Yixing opens his mouth ready to protest, but as usual Jongdae can read him like an open book.

“Don’t insult me by taking the blame for this on your own shoulders. I’m not a kid Yixing, I knew very well what I was doing and I knew that it was wrong. That still didn’t stop me.” There it is, that silver lining. Can you blame someone for doing something wrong, as long as they remained unaware that what they were doing was wrong? Jongdae knew it was wrong, Yixing didn’t, not really. He didn’t realise he was using Jongdae to cover a hole in his life, not filling it, but covering it up so he could pretend it didn’t exist. When he did realise, he ended it at once. He didn’t do it in the best way and he knows it must have hurt Jongdae to be so suddenly pushed aside, but he ended it. Of course, their relationship has been wrong for more reasons than that, but they don’t really matter in comparison.

Without him even realising it, Yixing’s shoulders relax as Jongdae’s words hit him. A relationship takes two, and Jongdae almost always took the initiative, Yixing never forced him to do anything. If Jongdae is telling the truth, which Yixing wants to believe he is, then Yixing will hold onto that, and suddenly a part of the guilt he carries around disappears like water down the drain.

“I know it’s not really my place to ask” Jongdae is smiling now, “you’ve been different lately, happier. Are you seeing someone?” Yixing flushes and nervously fiddles with the things on his desk. Jongdae chuckles lightly, “I’m glad” he says.

Yixing tries to smile, but for the first time since he met Yifan, he finds it hard to do. Jongdae notices and leans forward a little in his seat.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, far too concerned in Yixing’s opinion, and he wants to lie, but he thinks he used it up the night before when he told Yifan it was alright.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” Jongdae says and this time Yixing doesn’t stop him when he stands from the chair and makes his way to the door. There is a moment of hesitation as if he wants to say something, but then Jongdae is out the door and gone down the hallway.

 

He feels lighter after having talked with Jongdae. He breezes through the next meetings and every student who comes to see him leaves with a smile on their face. The sky seems bluer and his coffee tastes better than it ever has before. There is a bounce to his step when he walks home.

He realises of course, that all this is just his imagining. It is his mind that is clearer, less muddled by worries and burdens and beaming through his eyes at the thought of Yifan coming back later in the day. Still he marvels at the deep red colour of his apartment building and wonders if they painted it recently without him noticing. And he wonders if the two college-aged girls on the first floor have moved out because he can’t hear the muted thud of music coming through the door as he walks past. And in the elevator he thinks about taking a taxi to the nearest market and buying fresh groceries for a proper dinner. He walks to his door with a smile on his face feeling rejuvenated and almost like a completely new person. The lightness lasts until he has his shoes off, the excitement until he drops his bag on the sofa and the smile finally falls when he is standing in his bedroom with his shirt hanging off of one shoulder. The moss green jacket he had worn that day, many years ago it had belonged to Han. The bed he is standing in front of, the same bed where Yifan has fucked him so many times already, is his and Han’s bed. It doesn’t matter that Han broke up with him, that he moved out and left him to go to another country entirely. Much like how a first love lingers in comparisons to all that succeeds it, the memories Han and him made in that bed lingers in the woodwork and sounds in the creaking of the springs. Even if he doesn’t think about them or about Han when he is with Yifan, they are still there and impossible to get rid of, and when he is alone they swirl around behind his eyes and fight each other to be in the vanguard of their devastating army.

For some unfathomable reason, Yixing is unable to leave them be. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t leave them in a box of the past where they belong, but rather drags them along like the heaviest baggage weighing him down. He no longer loves Han, he is certain of that, but what scares him now is that he might come to hate the man who was once his best friend, because he himself can’t let go. Han doesn’t deserve that, but more important, Yifan doesn’t deserve this.

Yifan is sunshine and warmth, kindness and generosity, adventure and discovery and so much love. Even if neither of them have said the words, Yifan’s growing love for him shines through in everything the man does. From the way he plays with his fingers, to how he’ll wake up early to make Yixing breakfast before his classes, to how he cares for him in bed and makes love to him more than fucks him, Yifan’s love is too bright, his heart too big to be concealed. Yifan is too good for him.

While Jongdae was a physical respite from the emptiness in his life, Yifan is filling the space in his heart with his own presence. The hole that Han made when he left and that Yixing has tried for so many years to fill on his own. This should be a good thing, Yifan can be the one to finally heal his broken heart, but does Yixing deserve that?

In the four years since his relationship with Han ended he has flitted from one man to another, never staying long enough to get the slightest attached. He has filled his loneliness with meaningless sex because that was all he wanted. He soiled himself and cheapened himself to a point that his own body disgusted him, and then he met Jongdae and the dirty feeling didn’t go away in hot water. The younger man, talented almost beyond compare, so open to everything yet so hesitant when it came to Yixing. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed how Jongdae’s face grew more stern, how his eyes lost the sparkle of innocence, in the time they spent together. Some would say he matured, Yixing thinks differently. Because; if your own hands are dirty, how can you possibly touch something white and pure without soiling it as well? Jongdae may have forgiven Yixing for how he used him, but that is not the worst thing he has done. He changed him, and Yixing can see himself doing the same to Yifan.

 

The apartment is dark when the chime of the doorbell rings through it. Yixing sits on the barstool a moment longer before he goes to let Yifan in and unlocks the hallway door for him. He leaves it slightly ajar and goes back inside, this time he curls into the corner of the sofa furthest from the door, and waits. A minute later Yifan bumbles in through the door, whistling and making a lot more noise than is necessary and it almost draws a smile from Yixing.

“Why is it so dark here?” Yifan calls from the entryway, but Yixing keeps quiet. “Yixing?” There is a heavy thud as Yifan presumably drops his duffel bag to the floor and then heavy footsteps make their way into the living room. Yifan reaches out for the light switch and the light that floods the room has Yixing blinking his eyes rapidly and squinting at his hands laying on top of his knees. He doesn’t dare look up at Yifan.

“What are you doing, sitting in the dark like this?” Yifan laughs, but there is a worried tone to his voice and he walks quickly over to Yixing and kneels on the floor in front of him.

“Is everything alright, is Li Yin alright?” he asks and rubs his hands over Yixing’s legs to his hips which he grip gently, and Yixing loves that the man’s first thought was of his daughter. “Li Yin’s fine” Yixing whispers through lips that are bitten raw. “Please” he breaths and takes Yifan’s hands in his and pushes him away. Yifan frowns, but doesn’t comment on it, instead he moves to sit beside Yixing on the sofa with a reasonable distance between them. It doesn’t seem like Yixing will talk, so he asks again, “is everything alright?”

Yixing takes a deep breath and unfurls from his curled up position. He counts to ten slowly in his head and then turns to look at Yifan. The other man is open and genuine in front of him, worried but respectful of Yixing’s wishes and Yixing almost loves him for it. But he hates himself more for trying to damage that purity.

“I’ve been thinking” he starts and Yifan sits up straight and his hands reach out for him in worry at how hoarse his voice is. “I can’t.” Yixing breathes heavily, rapid breaths falling from his shaking lips, but he soldiers through the mounting panic. He needs to say this, there is nothing else for him to do. “I can’t do this,” he forces his voice to imitate a calm he doesn’t feel as he finishes the sentence, “I’m breaking up with you.”

Yifan is quiet for a long time after the words fall between them. His brow furrows and his eyes drop from Yixing’s face to his own hands which clench tightly on top of his thighs.

“I don’t get it,” he says finally, his voice void of colour and his words come out sounding choked. “What’s there not to get? I’m breaking up with you.” Yixing feels his stomach turn to lead at the cruelty of his own words, but it’s too late to take them back. Yifan’s head jerks up to look at him and in his eyes is a hurt Yixing hates himself even more for having created. “I get that, but why?” Yifan is starting to tremble, first his lips then his hands, his breath staggers through his lungs and out his mouth in heavy puffs and Yixing can tell from how he clenches his teeth that Yifan is doing everything in his power to keep from crying. He can understand that, if their roles were reversed, if it had been Yifan sitting in his seat and being so cold, the last thing Yixing would want would be to show him his tears.

His heart is beating so fast Yixing imagines it would beat straight out of his chest at some point, and there is what feels like a tennis ball lodged in his throat that is keeping him from saying anything else and in the silence Yifan slowly breaks down. His chin falls against his own chest and his body shudders as the tears finally fall as he realises that Yixing is absolutely serious. Yixing feels his own tears fighting to fall and he tips his head back and blinks rapidly at the ceiling and his mouth opens and closes shakily as he swallows every sob trying to break through.

“I’m sorry Yifan,” he chokes, “but I don’t think this is going to work, so it’s best to just end it now.” He can’t believe he actually got the words out, both because of the lump in his throat and because he doesn’t actually want to voice them, but there they are and he can’t take them back.

“You don’t mean that,” Yifan’s voice is unlike anything he has heard the man sound like before, and the despondency of it claws at Yixing’s heart until it tears it into shreds, and Yixing can feel it bleed in his chest as vividly as he can see the tearstains on Yifan’s cheeks.

“I do” he says and then throws the last brick at the man sitting in front of him, “and now I think you should leave.” Yifan looks him right in the eyes for a long time and Yixing could not say what it is he finds there, but in the end Yifan rises quietly to his feet. “I’ll leave” he says after he has taken the steps to the entryway, then he turns back to look at Yixing and his face is dry and his hands are more or less steady, “for now” he finishes and Yixing jumps to his feet and storms over to him. “No!” he yells and hits at Yifan’s chest, pushes him backwards, “you’ll leave! That’s it!” He opens the door and shoves Yifan out, he doesn’t understand where this anger, this hysteria has come from as he throws the man’s shoes out the door, but he can’t handle Yifan trying to stay, to patch them back together after whatever imagined dispute he can think of. The panic he had felt earlier at pushing Yifan away, returns with a vengeance at the thought of Yifan pushing back. He knows he’ll break if Yifan so much as takes him in his arms, but he can’t do that to Yifan. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did that.

He shoves Yifan once more and throws the man’s duffel bag out in the hallway with him and slams the door shut. He locks it for good measure, and then he drops heavily to the floor as his legs refuse to carry him any longer. He gasps quietly for a long time and listens to Yifan’s heavy footsteps eventually fading away down the hallway. When he can no longer hear the other man his entire body goes stiff and the breath stops in his lungs. As if it was gathering strength in his momentary freeze, his whole body jerks with the force of the first sob that finally breaks through. And then it is like a waterfall, impossible to stop. He sobs loudly and claws his chest red and raw to try and alleviate the pain coming from within. He understands now that he has made a terrible mistake. The worst mistake of his life. He wouldn’t hurt so much if it was anything less, but Yifan is already gone and he can’t take back any of the words he said to him. All he can do is cry, sob until his throat is raw and his eyes dry up and hope that his heart will go numb before he is forced to tear it out.

 

 

**7 th of February 2016**

 

“What the hell did you do?” is the first thing out of Jia’s mouth when he lets her in. Li Yin is asleep in her baby carrier so Jia’s voice, while still hard, is barely more than a whisper. Still the anger is unmistakeable in both her voice and her face and Yixing is struck silent at once. “I texted Yifan on my way up to ask if he was celebrating New Year’s Day with us tomorrow and all I got in return was _No **.**_ ” “What the hell did you do?”

Yixing can’t take it anymore and frowns down at her, “why do you think I’m the one who did something?” he demands and Jia nearly laughs in his face. “Because I know you Yixing, I know how you’re like.”

“You don’t know me” he bursts out, “you don’t know me.” Jia is silent for all but two seconds and when she speaks again she has that same look of disappointment he has gotten so used to seeing on his mother’s face.

“I know you get scared, and you run away from the things that make you happy because you don’t think you deserve them.” She is so on point, right down to the last detail, and it scares him that she can know him so well when he didn’t think they were close enough for that at all. Maybe he really is an open book. But if that is the case, then why couldn’t Yifan see that he didn’t really want him to go? Why has Yifan stayed away like he told him to?

It’s been four days since Yixing broke up with him and proceeded to break down completely on the floor of his own entryway as a consequence. It has been four days of him ghosting around his apartment, his office at the university and his lectures and seminar groups. Four days of an emptiness he has never felt, a hurt and loneliness he has never experienced. He thought it couldn’t be worse than the desolation left from his relationship with Han, but now he doesn’t even recognise himself. And he has dreaded this day when Jia would come with Li Yin and he would have to take care of her. Not because he doesn’t want to see her, there is nothing he has wanted more in these last few days, but because he knows he will be unable to care for her. Jia probably realises this as she doesn’t let go of the baby carrier as she walks past him into his apartment. She sets it gently down on the floor by the sofa and strokes a soft hand over their daughter’s head before she turns back to him. With a deep sigh through her nose she steps close to him and grips his biceps with both hands.

“But no matter how you feel about yourself, you can’t make decision like this on your own, you need to let other people decide for themselves. If Yifan didn’t want to be with you, do you think he would have gotten so close with Li Yin? Do you think he would have put up with you for so long if he didn’t feel something for you? You’re not the easiest person to love Yixing!” He flinches at her brutal honesty, but he has no one to blame but himself. He’s not a difficult person in general, on the contrary he is accommodating, rather selfless and cares more for other’s well-being than his own. But that is the problem right there, or at least the essence of it. Because it is as they say, how can you love someone, who doesn’t even love themselves?

“You can’t damage someone just by loving them.”

Jia’s words strike right through him and he wonders how she can know him so well.

But she is wrong. Yixing ruined Han when he first kissed him, tempted him into a life he didn’t really want. He drained Jongdae of his innocence, his naiveté and, if given the chance, he would have swallowed up Yifan’s kindness and left a rotting hole in its stead. It’s what he does, he devours the good in people as he tries to clean himself of his own filth.

“You’re broken Yixing, I see that plain as day. And you need someone strong enough to put your pieces back together. I know no one better to do that, than Yifan. So why did you push him away when he wanted to help?”

He wants to believe her, by the gods and all things holy he wants to believe her words. But much like a road block stopping traffic, or a mudslide halting the flow of a river, there is something in him that is holding him back. A parasite in his subconscious telling him that he is not worthy of help. It’s the kind of parasite that grows and grows until he has to listen to it and after he has it shrinks back into the back of his mind and leaves him to suffer the consequences.

“He wanted to help?” he whispers and his head slowly sinks down to Jia’s shoulder. His neck stretches to make the height difference, but what should be an uncomfortable position is the exact opposite as Jia wraps her arms around him in a warm hug.

“He loves you,” she whispers back and they say no more for a long while.

 

When Jia leaves not even ten minutes after she arrived, she doesn’t say anything as she takes Li Yin with her other than a promise that they’ll be early tomorrow and a stern reprimand that he should clean up the place before then. Yixing smiles, a slight quirk of the lips only but a smile nonetheless, and closes the door behind her. He spins slowly on the spot, takes in the nearly spotless room around him and huffs a laugh. He wanders mindlessly around the apartment and picks up the odd trinket or item of clothing out of place, he even puts on a machine of dirty laundry, and by the time he is sitting on the sofa and plucks his mind out of the monotony of routine, he has already dialled Yifan’s number and is listening to the phone ring. He holds his breath at the break in the dialling tone and doesn’t let it out until he absolutely has to as Yifan’s quiet breathing sounds over the line.

“Hi” he utters on the breath out. A beat goes by and then Yifan says back just as quietly “hi.” A minute of silence follows and Yixing starts regretting letting himself make the call. “I’m sorry” he says and there is a sharp intake of air on the other line, “I probably shouldn’t have called.” “No” Yifan interrupts him, “we should talk.” Yixing hums in docile agreement and Yifan sighs heavily over the line.

“I don’t get it Yixing, what happened?” Yixing can feel his eyes filling with tears at the helplessness in Yifan’s voice. “I don’t know” he sobs quietly, “I don’t know Yifan, I don’t know.” Yifan sighs again and Yixing bites down on his lips to keep the tears at bay.

“I know we weren’t together all that long, but it was good, wasn’t it? It felt right?” Yixing nods, but he doesn’t say anything. “At least that’s how I see it.”

“Where are you?” Yixing asks. Suddenly he needs to know where Yifan is, if he’s sitting in his small cupboard of an apartment, or if he’s in a park or a café somewhere in the city. He needs a picture of Yifan having this conversation. The other man hesitates in answering however, and Yixing chews on his lips as he considers apologizing for intruding so much. “I’m in Canada” Yifan finally answers and Yixing wishes he hadn’t. “I’m visiting some friends, I don’t know for how long. At least until next month, after that … I don’t know.” Yixing feels like crying, but he knows he has no right to. He caused this and Yifan is fully in his right to do what he needs to get over it.

“I need some space Yixing, you owe me that so please, don’t call me again.” His whole body clenches as he tries to hold back the tears and the sobs and it takes everything in him to choke out a single _okay_.

“That doesn’t mean.” Yifan stops abruptly in the middle of the sentence and Yixing holds his breath while he waits for the conclusion.

“I love you” Yifan says and then the line crackles and the long beep signalling the end of a phone call rings loudly in Yixing’s ear.

His hand falls slowly into his lap and he sits quietly, blinking at the air in front of him as his lips wobble and slowly stretch into a tiny smile. Not in a million years could he have imagined what those three words would do to him. Never would he have thought that they could fill him with such warmth as they have. Even if he never talks to Yifan ever again, if he never so much as sees him from a distance on a crowded street, the man will have done this one good thing for him. Even if Yixing doesn’t deserve it, jus this once he is going to take it anyway. He doesn’t have a choice really, the warmth spreading through him is out of his control. He doesn’t understand how Yifan can love him, how, despite the few months they have known each other and despite what Yixing has done to him, Yifan’s heart is big enough to admit the love he holds for him, expecting absolutely nothing in return. An act of such complete selflessness, while it won’t change how Yixing thinks of himself, it forces him to accept the love, and on the moment it was spoken, that love sowed the seed of true acceptance. Yixing has hit rock bottom, and now all he can do is heal. And no matter what the future brings for the two of them, Yifan has already been the greatest help.

 

_I could make you happy, make you dreams come true_

_Nothing that I wouldn’t do._

_Go to the ends of the earth for you._

_To make you feel my love._

 

**11 th of April 2016**

 

Yixing sings quietly under his breath as he wanders the street on his way home from work. It had been a good day so far, his students were finishing up their exam pieces and he had spent most of the day enjoying lots of good music and not doing much else. One in particular has stuck in his mind and he swears if it doesn’t receive an A, he’ll file a complaint himself. He huffs a quiet laugh at himself and swings his arms at his sides and wiggles his head side to side. The backpack is heavy on his shoulders, filled to the brim with fresh vegetables and meat and other groceries and even a small bottle of sake for when he will be correcting the last batch of essays for this semester. A small pleasure he allows himself on nights when he doesn’t have Li Yin. He purses his lips in a pout as he thinks about his daughter. Normally he wouldn’t have any problem with leaving her with her mother, but ever since Jia got a boyfriend he has been reluctant about her taking care of Li Yin. It doesn’t matter that said boyfriend is apparently a real charmer and the kindest soul to ever exist and wonderful with children, he is Li Yin’s father and he doesn’t like having that role threatened in the slightest. As he walks he pays no attention to the people passing by him and it is only familiarity that has him slowing down as he reaches the door to his apartment building. Whistling, he uses his key to open the door and uses his shoulder to push it open as he goes through. On the elevator ride and the following walk down the hallway he is lost in thoughts of what he should make for dinner, entirely too preoccupied to notice the figure leaning against the wall beside his door. It’s first when he is only steps away that he notices and recognises the long body of his ex-boyfriend. They meet eyes and say nothing for the time it takes Yixing to get his wits about him and then he smiles widely at Yifan. “Hi” he says, loud and clear and he is suddenly so happy. Happy too see Yifan again, even if he had almost settled with never seeing him ever again. Yifan smiles back and stands up straight, he fumbles in the way of someone who doesn’t quite know where to start so Yixing walks past him to open the door and then gestures him inside. They take their shoes off in silence and Yixing breezes through the apartment to the kitchen and starts putting the groceries away. Without asking he puts on the kettle and pulls two cups from the cupboard and readies tea for the both of them. It is all so familiar, but at the same time there is a polite distance between them.

“It’s good to see you again” he calls from the kitchen, assuming Yifan is still loitering around the living room, and jerks in surprise when he turns to find the man leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. “Oh, I didn’t hear you.”

Yifan smiles a half smile and folds his arms over his chest, “you look good” he says. Yixing fumbles with the tea bags in his hands and the smile on his face shakes as he fights to keep it from growing too big. “Thanks” he whispers into his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden. “You … you look good too, what have you been up to?”

He winces a little and takes a deep breath to try and pull himself together. He has every right to feel a little awkward of course, but this is getting ridiculous.  Yifan is standing quietly behind him, probably laughing at what a fool he is as Yixing almost overturns one of the cups and sends it rolling over the edge. A hand that’s not his own is there to catch it however, and another, warm and strong, is at his lower back and Yixing lets out a breath and leans against it. “Slowly, careful” Yifan’s voice is low and comforting and he rubs his thumb over Yixing’s back for each word he says. “I think you know why I’m here, but if you don’t want me to be you just say the word and I’ll leave.” Yixing turns his head to Yifan and smiles tremulously at the man, “I think you already know what I want,” he says and as he drops his eyes to the counter he laughs a short self-deprecating laugh. “I’m so stupid” he whispers and reaches for the kettle to pour hot water in the two cups.

“Normally I would say something motivating or; _you shouldn’t say that about yourself_ , but you’re right. It was a stupid thing you did.” Yifan’s voice is clear, but not cruel. He means it as stating a fact, and he doesn’t look down on Yixing for it.

Yixing hands one cup of tea to Yifan and takes the other between his palms. He gestures with his head for Yifan to go first and soon they settle on the sofa, turned towards each other with one leg on the pillows and leaning sideways against the backrest. Yixing blows gently on the hot beverage and alternates between his right and his left hand with holding the cup as his palms start to burn. Yifan does the more sensible thing and holds the cup by its handle, but the restless movement somehow helps with calming his heart.

After a time of them nursing their cups of hot tea, Yifan clears his throat and leans forward to place his cup on the low table in front of the sofa. He lifts slightly from the sofa as he searches for something in his back pocket and the crinkling sound of paper precedes him pulling a rumpled note from his jeans. The paper is almost grey in colour and so rumpled it looks as if it has been curled into a ball and flattened again more than once. Yifan clears his throat again as he flattens the paper against his thigh with a gentle hand.

“I wrote this down shortly after our phone call. I wasn’t sure what I would say when I saw you again so I figured I’d bring it along.” Yixing sets his cup down as well and curls his hands together in his lap as he waits. Yifan flicks his eyes between the note in his hands and Yixing’s eyes several times while licking his lips before clearing his throat once again.

“I fell fast and hard for you Yixing” he starts and holds eye contact with Yixing for a beat before he drops them to the paper and continues to read. Except he’s not actually reading, he knows this note by heart, “I fell for this self-conscious, conflicted and depressed soul that still forges on and still lights up with every smile. This broken yet still strong man who gives so much, gives too much, of himself all the time.”

“You give so much to your mother, who loves you just as she can’t understand you. To your daughter who needs your attention and your love to grow. To your students who rely on you to get through their degree. To that old couple who runs that little pastry shop near the university where you always get your lunch.

“To me, who only want your hand in mine and nothing more.”

They are both crying when Yifan stops and folds the note. Yixing reaches almost desperately for Yifan’s hands and the other man is right there, folding his shaking hands between his own larger ones, and holding tight. Yifan slides closer to him on the sofa and cups his cheek with one hand and wipes his tears with his thumb. “I saw it Yixing, from the beginning I saw that you were suffering, and I didn’t know how to help you. I am so sorry” Yifan chokes at the words, but continues despite the tears clogging his throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more; I hope this can begin to make up for it.” Yixing shakes his head and grips around Yifan’s hand with both of his, “no, no no no no” he says.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. I hurt you! How can you even think about apologizing, there is nothing to …” Yifan shushes him with a finger against his lips. He smiles warmly at Yixing in the same way he smiles at Li Yin and Yixing gets the feeling there is something very big he is missing.

“Love” Yifan starts with an open face,” is not a one-sided thing. I failed you when I didn’t do more to help. I could have talked to you instead of wondered about it on my own, I should have reached out and shown you that I wanted to help, whatever it was. Instead of doing all that, I let you think that you stood alone, that you had to deal with whatever problems you carry on your own, and that is why you pushed me away isn’t it?”

Yixing shakes his head minutely, but Yifan continues before he can deny it. “Because you didn’t want to burden me with your problems?”

He is right, so Yixing can’t deny it, but he doesn’t like Yifan taking the blame for their break up.

“I’m still the one who pushed you away, I said those things and hurt you, why are you even trying to take the blame for that?” “I’m not” Yifan says and lifts Yixing’s head so they can lock eyes, “and I expect you to make it up to me, but really Yixing, you didn’t say anything particularly mean, so don’t worry about that.” Yifan laughs a little as he leans back and drops his hands to his own lap. “But first I have to make it up to you, so will you tell me what it is that made you think we weren’t going to work out?”

Yixing looks at Yifan for a long time, really looks at him from his eyes to his hands all the way to his socked feet and back up to his eyes. He wants to tell him everything he is feeling, but there it is, that parasite in his brain, growing and growing and cutting his voice off and forcing his eyes closed and his breath stutters in his lungs, but then suddenly there are hands holding his and forcing the parasite back into its cage with nothing but a soft touch. The pressure in Yixing’s chest disappears and he can breathe easily again.

“I don’t know where to start” he admits and looks into Yifan’s eyes, the other man is sitting so patiently waiting for him with a gentle smile on his face and only love in his eyes. “Start somewhere, it doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me or even to you, and you don’t have to say it all now. I think you just need to say something.”

Yixing nods and licks his lips as he thinks. “I am afraid I’ll ruin you” he whispers eventually, “like how I ruined Han and Zhongdai, I don’t want to take your kindness away.” He doesn’t think he can say anything more now, maybe someday he’ll tell Yifan about Han and how they met and fell in love and unravelled, and how he had an illicit affair with a student just because it felt good while it was happening. First he’ll probably tell him how it broke him down inside and stained his hands to the point where he was afraid to touch anyone for longer than a one-night-stand, but not right now.

“People change Yixing, it would be odd if they didn’t, but I don’t think for a second that you are capable of ruining anyone!

“You say I’m kind? I say you’re far kinder than I could ever be. You have never experienced meeting yourself, so I understand that you might not see it, but you’re beautiful Yixing, on the inside even more than you are on the outside. You give happiness to the people around you through your selfless actions. You give so much of yourself, and I’m not telling you to stop doing that, what I’m asking you to do, is try and accept the things people want to give to you. What I want to give to you.” Yixing’s whole body trembles as he tries to decide whether he should cry or smile or laugh or hug Yifan or kiss him or do everything at once. Yifan smiles back at him through wet eyes as he delivers his last wish to Yixing, “and I really hope that you’ll let me be at your side and give you all the love I have for you, because it’s building up inside of me and really needs to be let out.” He laughs through his words and Yixing laughs with him and then they move at the same time and come together in a hug full of warmth and love and Yixing feels all of it. Almost as if he is opening a door, he lets out all the love he feels for Yifan and welcomes all the love the other man feels for him in a mutual exchange of the likes Yixing hasn’t felt since he was a child.

They go from hugging to kissing and it feels so right, better than anything else Yixing can imagine, next only to having his daughter in his arms. And Yixing climbs into Yifan’s lap, not because he necessarily wants this to go anywhere else, but because he can’t stand the thought of not being as close to the other man as he possibly can. Yifan pulls him in with just as desperate hands and they kiss and kiss in what is only the beginning of making up for all the time they have lost. And as they sit there, Yixing realises that he never stood a chance. In the face of Yifan’s light, his love for the world, for adventure, for life and for him, the only thing Yixing could ever do, is submit.

 

They break apart, but their arms stay around each other and Yixing ghosts kisses over Yifan’s cheekbones and forehead with a constant smile on his lips. Yifan massages circles into Yixing’s back and enjoys the onslaught of kisses with his eyes closed and content humming.

“I bought a new bed” Yixing murmurs against his hairline and Yifan’s hands reflexively grip his sides, “I think it needs a proper break in, and some good memories.” Yixing traces his fingers along Yifan’s shoulders and up his neck and down his spine and around his throat and his lips kiss a path down the side of his face and sucks a mark into the underside of his jaw. Yifan hums low in his throat and slides his hands down to grip Yixing’s hips in a strong hold and Yixing can feel a moan building all the way in his chest. There is nothing he wants more right now than to be as close to Yifan as he can, physically as much as emotionally and his body thrills at the confirmation that Yifan feels the same.

“First though” Yifan says and Yixing leans back immediately, worried that he is moving too quickly for Yifan. Yifan chuckles at the look on his face and swoops in and kisses him, thrusts his tongue deep in Yixing’s mouth and runs his hands up and down the outside of his thighs.

“First; I have one question for you.”

Yixing breaths heavily after the powerful kiss and his eyes widen at the serious look on Yifan’s face. “Will you be my boyfriend? Again?”

A relieved laugh bursts from Yixing’s mouth and he nods happily and wraps his arms firmly around Yifan’s neck. “Yes?” Yifan asks, with a laugh ready to spill from his lips. “Yes!” The echo of Yixing’s loud voice seems to resound in the entire apartment and they spend a few more seconds laughing together at their silliness. As they quiet down they come easily back together in a gentle kiss, tilting their heads for better access and their hands run smoothly over whatever of the other they can reach. Yixing rises from Yifan’s lap while their lips stay pressed together and they entwine their fingers as Yifan stumbles to his feet as well, the both of them refusing to part for even a second. With a moan Yixing wraps his arms around Yifan’s neck and tightens his muscles as Yifan grabs the back of his thighs and lifts him off his feet. Their lips are forced apart by the movement, but only for a moment as Yifan manoeuvres out from between the sofa and the lounge table and then they are kissing even more desperately than before as Yifan walks them both to the bedroom.

The breath is forced from Yixing’s lungs when Yifan drops him on the bed and he opens his eyes and looks up at the man to see him admiring not Yixing, but the bed he is lying on. It is much the same in size as the old one, but that is also where the similarities end. It was a far more expensive bed, but with the added monetary value came comfort and a frankly stunning design. The wooden headboard, a dark cherry colour, is sturdy and nicely carved and the mattress is one of those form fitting ones “created for optimised sleep”. He had splurged a little on it, to say the least. It is not nice enough however, that it should take the attention of his lover away from him!

Yixing sits up halfway and pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to the floor, then he lays flat on his back and undoes his trousers and push them down his legs. The moment that is on the floor as well, Yifan’s eyes are strictly focused on him and there is a familiar darkness in them that he has longed to see every night he has spent alone in this bed with his hand around his cock. Yifan chooses to discard himself of his own clothing before kneeling on the bed, and Yixing is happy for it. Even as he wants this to last, for them to draw it out and re-familiarise themselves with each other for hours and hours, he is quickly getting far too impatient for it. And when Yifan leans over him and lifts his legs around his own body and lays down in the cradle of his hips, Yixing can breathe easily in the knowledge that he feels the same way. But when Yifan kisses him and grinds down against him, he feels something different. Nothing that has to do with their relationship has been in any way a part of what has been the norm for Yixing these last years, and the sudden urge he has to put Yifan on his back is eating up everything else at a fantastic pace. So he pushes gently at Yifan’s shoulders and when the other man leans back to look at him, Yixing bites his lower lip and taps his fingers nervously on Yifan’s biceps.

“The first time we had sex. Do you remember what you told me?” Yifan arches an eyebrow in confusion and Yixing goes on, albeit a bit quieter, “you said you were fine with either.” He doesn’t elaborate, but by the look on Yifan’s face he knows exactly what Yixing is talking about. And instead of doing or saying anything Yixing thought he might he only smiles and says “whatever you want.” Yixing smiles back at him and pushes harder at his shoulders and slides out from under him and carefully they move until Yifan is leaning back on his elbows and Yixing is sitting astride one of his thighs. He sits still for a long moment and then jerks forward and reaches for the night stand and the knob on the top drawer. Yifan’s hands come up to his hips to steady him and Yixing laughs self-consciously as he slowly sits back with a condom and a bottle of lube in his hands. Yifan doesn’t let go of him and tugs at his hips until Yixing moves enough that he is sitting between Yifan’s legs and then he lets go to tug down his own underwear. Yixing moans breathlessly at the sight of Yifan’s half hard cock being revealed and before Yifan has even gotten the boxer shorts off his legs he leans forward and laps at it with a dry tongue. He pulls back quickly and swallows and moves his tongue around in his mouth until saliva wets it again and then he steadies Yifan’s cock with both hands and takes the head into his mouth. Yifan grips the sheets in between his fingers and Yixing moans around the mouthful, he had forgotten exactly how big Yifan’s cock is, and he sucks hard on the head until Yifan’s head falls back and his hips starts jerking and pushing his cock further into Yixing’s mouth. Then he pulls away and sits back on his haunches and uncaps the bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers.

“I’m sorry, in advance. I haven’t done this in a very long time.” Yixing says it in a very stand-offish kind of way, but Yifan can see the nervous tilt of his head and the way he won’t stop blinking his eyes. He takes Yixing’s dry hand in his and twines their fingers together and when Yixing looks up at him he smiles reassuringly and squeezes his fingers gently between his. “We’ll do this together, it will be fine and I am confident you will have nothing to be sorry for later.”

Yifan raises his knees up, his feet planted flat on the bed, and Yixing leans forward between them to kiss him as he teases the first finger inside him. Yifan moans lowly into his mouth and Yixing is encouraged to move his finger slowly in and out of him, swirling it around as he does. Warm hands run up his sides as he continues to finger Yifan open and the nervousness slowly melts away as Yifan shows just how much he likes what he is doing to him.

When he has three fingers inside him, Yixing moans at the tightness as he imagines it gripping around his cock. He can still remember how it used to be with Han, when they would alternate on who fucked who in the span of a night, but he has all but forgotten how it feels to be inside another person. Because Jia definitely does not count. Yixing is very certain he has blocked the memory of that all together.

 

Yifan wraps a long leg around Yixing’s waist when he feels Yixing has spent long enough preparing him and Yixing whines quietly when he tries to pull his fingers from his ass. “Are you sure? I mean I think I should a little more at least …” Yifan uses his arms to draw Yixing down against his chest and kisses him hard to silence him and then grips his ass with both hands and pulls him against him until he can feel his dry cock slide easily in the excess lube coating his buttocks. While Yixing gasps and moans and grinds against him, Yifan squirts a dollop of lube into his palm and reaches for the other man’s cock. He tilts his chin up until Yixing gets the hint and meet him halfway in a kiss and then he wraps his palm around Yixing’s cock and covers the whole length of it with lube. Yixing jerks out of the kiss and moans when Yifan tugs a couple times at his cock for good measure and then he opens wide eyes and looks down at Yifan, takes his own cock in hand and places it at Yifan’s hole with a whispered, breathless and absolutely desperate sounding _please._

Yifan grunts and kneads his fingers into the flesh of Yixing’s ass and Yixing wastes no more time and pushes against Yifan’s hole until the muscles give way and his cock slips inside. He stops suddenly and moans long and loud, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles go white and his eyes fly shut as he tries to contain himself in the face of a pleasure so good it almost hurts. Yifan is breathing calmly through his nose as he tries to relax around the invading presence and he laughs quietly after he’s adjusted and sees Yixing still with his face scrunched together in concentration. With a sly smile painting his lips, Yifan grips tightly to Yixing’s ass and pulls him forward until he is completely buried inside him and as he moans at the feeling he takes delight in the mind blown look on Yixing’s face and how all the breath seems to have been punched from his lungs.

“I’m alright Yixing, don’t hold back for me.”

Yixing takes a few more moments to regain his breath and his bearings, and then he moves his hands to the mattress on either side of Yifan’s head to steady himself and slowly starts to pull back, only an inch, and then he thrusts back inside. He moves carefully and pays close attention to Yifan’s face and the way the man grips his body with his hands, his legs and the muscles in his ass. Even if it has been years since he has fucked anyone, Yixing falls into a steady rhythm of pulling out and thrusting back inside Yifan with surprising ease. His elbows buckle after a deep thrust and he finds Yifan’s mouth with a satisfied moan and they kiss while Yifan strokes hands over Yixing’s back and Yixing moves his hips in shallow thrusts inside him. The head of his cock rubs over Yifan’s prostate and the other man clenches around him and moans loudly into his mouth and it feels so good Yixing thinks he might actually cry. And Yifan holding him so close while he moves inside him, and looking up at him with so much love and trust makes something beautiful bloom in Yixing’s heart. A feeling of absolute happiness and content.

And as they make love to each other, not just the once, but over and over and long into the night, until they are both exhausted and sore in all the right places, that happiness grows until it is all he is aware of.  And when he snuggles into Yifan’s arms sometime in the middle of the night he whispers those three beautiful words to which Yifan responds immediately with a heartfelt _I love you too._

 

 

**11 th of December 2018**

 

Paper rustling and a clock ticking is the only sound to be heard in the small office on the third floor of the left wing of the music department building. The sun is on its way down on the horizon and its orange rays fill the room with a muted light, just enough to see by, and Yixing keeps a close eye on it as he writes corrections on tomorrow’s lecture notes. He had been ordered that morning to not come home until after the sun has set, but Yifan hadn’t said anything more and the secrecy alone has him itching to find out what he has planned. By mutual agreement they decided, more than two years ago, that today would be their anniversary. The day of their first date, the day they both swear they probably fell in love, and this year Yifan demanded that he do all the planning.

Yixing sets his pen down and reaches for the picture frame on his desk and sits back in his chair with it in his hands. It is a picture of the three of them, him Yifan and Li Yin, taken a little over a year ago at Jia’s wedding. His little girl, their little girl really, looked so pretty that day in her pastel blue dress and her gold diadem and Yifan was the most handsome Yixing thinks he has ever seen him. It was the first time he had seen Yifan actually wear a suit and the picture he made in it had Yixing’s hands itching to touch him throughout the entire ceremony and the party after. He chuckles at the memory of all the times Yifan had to give him a stern _no_ , just so they wouldn’t leave the party before the bride and groom.

He moves his eyes from the picture in his hands to another, smaller one on the corner of his desk. It’s a picture of a little baby boy with lots of dark hair and big, gleaming eyes and a pretty button nose. It’s Han’s son, and his name is Yixing.

The baby is about a year and a half old now, they hadn’t exactly waited for long after getting married, and even if Yixing wasn’t there at the wedding or at all really in the two years since, Han named him godfather. It was the only right thing; he had said over the phone when the boy was born. Yixing didn’t quite understand the logic of what Han said, but he was honoured even more by it. He hasn’t been in love with Han in more than eight years, but he has always loved that young boy he met one summer who he connected with in a way that younger version of him had never experienced. Looking at Han’s little boy he feels that love grow in his heart and he thinks that when he meets Han again, he will look at the man like a beloved brother, long lost to him, but finally found again.

Yixing breaths in deep and huffs a laugh as he leans forward in his seat to place the picture frame back on his desk. When he turns to look out the window the sky is already turning a dark blue and he hurries to pack his things together and leaves his office with quick steps. The building is alive around him, filled with music and students hanging together in groups or on their way out, probably home like he is. A few of them greet him and wish him a good evening and he smiles back with a dip of his head.

He shivers as he exits the warm building into the biting winter cold and wraps his arms around himself and tucks his hands under his armpits as he realises he has forgotten to bring gloves. The wind howls in the square and he hurries across it and out the gates onto the street and takes a sharp left and jogs down the sidewalk. It takes him little over a minute to get home, but his hands shake almost uncontrollably when he tries to unlock the door. He gets it on the fourth try and hurries inside as quick as he can. The hallway isn’t much of an improvement, but at least there is no wind to bite at his cheeks.

Not even a minute later he walks through the door to their apartment and the first thing he hears is Yifan yelling out at him, “you forgot your gloves again!”

He laughs quietly into his hands and shakes his coat from his shoulders. His shoes are left by the door, but he makes sure to hang his coat in the closet and when he walks through the doorway to the living room he shakes his entire body as he tries to get warm.

“Come here! I need you to warm me up” he shouts to Yifan and the other man sticks his head out from the kitchen and points wordlessly at the thick woollen socks and sweater he has prepared for him on the sofa. Yixing smiles gratefully and slips into them, leaving his dress shirt over the back of the sofa and goes to stand in front of the radiator to warm himself. There is a bit of clanging and a soft curse from the kitchen and Yixing has a moment of worry before Yifan is rounding the kitchen island and coming towards him with a big smile on his face. Yixing turns towards him and purses his lips for a kiss which Yifan happily delivers and then he wraps the smaller man in his arms and rocks them from side to side. They share short, sweet kisses for a moment before a sneaky hand reaches down to pinch Yifan’s ass.

“No” he says immediately and Yixing pouts and acts as cute as he can only to have Yifan laughing at him. “First dinner, then dessert and then we will have afters” he says and wiggles his thick eyebrows in a way that is nothing but comical. It serves its purpose of making Yixing laugh, but he is quickly back to pouting and he wiggles his body against Yifan’s.

“But we had afters this morning already” he whines. “No, that was the appetizer” Yifan is interrupted by loud whining so he swoops down and kisses Yixing silent and then he pulls back and says in the sleaziest voice he can do, “baby, you haven’t known afters yet.”

A beeping sound comes from the kitchen, nearly drowned in Yixing’s loud laughter, and Yifan hurries away with a light slap to Yixing’s ass. “There is mail for you” he calls from the kitchen and Yixing takes a moment to breathe in the delicious smell spreading throughout their apartment before walking to the lounge table. There are the normal bills, already opened and probably checked over by Yifan, but beside them is a letter and on the back it says the sender is a Korean address. It might be Han, or even Seohyun, but Yixing hopes it’s from someone else. He tears the envelope open with a finger and fishes inside for the one paged letter. A small rectangle paper falls out when he tips the envelope and Yixing drops to his knees to pick it up from the floor. It’s a polaroid picture of two men, one of them Jongdae, smiling wider than Yixing has ever seen him smile, but the other is unfamiliar to him. However, judging by the way he is holding Jongdae with one arm and leaning against his shoulder, he is quite familiar to his former student. He takes the letter and unfolds it and immediately laughs. It is the very same letter he sent to Jongdae some weeks ago, he recognises his own handwriting and the single word of gratitude in the middle of the lined paper. Yifan claps loudly a couple times and cheers in the background and Yixing turns his head to see him admiring the variety of dishes he has finished decking the dining table with. The man turns to him when he hears Yixing chuckling and waves him over.

“Well come on then, dinner is served. And I won’t have you changing into something fancy, because I intend to be able to get you out of your clothes on my own later!”

Yifan sing-songs at him as he walks to the kitchen and comes back with a cold bottle of an expensive white and pours two glasses. Yixing folds the letter and rises to his feet and Yifan meets him with a full glass in the middle of the room.

“To love” he says and tips his glass to Yixing’s and Yixing clinks them together with a smile and pulls Yifan closer with a hand on his waist.

“To love” he returns in a kiss.


End file.
